


That's The Way I Wanna Rock 'n Roll

by BelovedCreation



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Captain Swan AU - Freeform, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-11
Updated: 2015-04-24
Packaged: 2018-02-04 03:10:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 42,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1763759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BelovedCreation/pseuds/BelovedCreation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Killian Jones, lead singer and guitarist of Jolly Roger, is the bad boy of the music industry. When he starts getting ominous death threats, his team decides to hire personal security expert Emma Swan to keep him out of danger. Can the leather-clad rocker and undercover bodyguard learn to work together before it is too late?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Like a Rolling Stone

Emma Swan was in a bit of a rut.

She had been working in personal security for seven years now. Her boss catered to the rich and famous who preferred a little discretion with their safety. Gone were the days of Britney Spears trailed by massive men in sunglasses. Emma had the skills to blend in with a crowd. She knew how to dress up or dress down for an occasion, which of her purses could best conceal her gun, and her gut had been telling her for years how to suss out a threat.

She loved her job, but her personal life was dead boring. Emma was alone. She had always been alone, really, despite the myriad of families that had housed her in her youth. She went home after a job to an empty apartment that always smelled vaguely of seafood. She had no roots, nothing to tie her down. Perhaps that, and her seven years of excellent work, had been why Vince had sent her to a hotel in Boston for what he called a "long-term job that required creative undercover work."

Emma had no fucking clue what that meant, but it sounded different.

As Emma knocked on room #815, she quickly checked to make sure that her gun was still in her bag. Who knew what kind of creep could be on the other side. Vince said that this was bound to be a lucrative job offer, but Vince liked to coat every surface in gold paint, so Emma had stopped trusting his financial judgements years ago. The hotel was nice enough. Her clients usually frequented hotels that provided personal conceierges and all that shit. This one let her on the elevator without a second glance. Safety didn't seem to be a high priority for this client.

She was pulled from her musings as the door opened to reveal a handsome young man with an open expression and close-cropped blonde hair. He broke into a smile that dazzled Emma for a moment. He hadn't said a word and Emma was already charmed.

"Hello, you must be Ms. Swan." He stuck out a hand for her to shake. "My name is David Nolan, please come on in."

"Pleased to meet you," Emma murmered politely, following him into a spacious suite. There were two women seated in the living space. One, with a pixie cut and a sugary-sweet smile, was sitting on the couch. The other woman had thick eye makeup, shocking red lips, and red streaks through her long brown locks. David sat next to the woman with the short hair and Emma sank into the seat next to the other woman.

"Ms. Swan, I am so pleased that you were able to meet us on such short notice. We are in desperate need for a bodyguard that is willing to work an unconventional job." Mr. Nolan somehow managed to speak with authority and kindness.

Emma nodded distractedly. "So what is it?"

The three exchanged looks with one another.

"Ms. Swan," began the woman next to Mr. Nolan, "this is a sensitive issue that is not to be shared with the public and we were hoping to make sure that you could fit all of our needs before we reveal explosive details."

Emma chuckled and leaned back in her chair. "So this person's pretty famous, huh? Tabloid fodder? I understand. I've worked with them before. Reality TV stars, movie stars, singers, politicians, what-have-you. I've seen it all. And I'm sure Vince has shared my record with you. I've run into some trouble, but never anything I couldn't handle. I don't get distracted just because someone is famous. I stay focused on the job, I stay discrete, and I do my work."

The two on the couch looked impressed. The woman leaned over to whisper in Mr. Nolan's ear. The woman next to Emma flicked her hair behind her shoulder and looked at Emma with an appraising look. "This is a long-term job. We're hoping it only takes a few weeks, but it could be longer. Are you capable of going undercover and infiltrating an entorage of people? The only ones would would know of your status are the three of us in this room and the client. Could you play a part 24/7?"

Emma shrugged. "Depends on the part. I'd do much better being myself a bit. But I can be a best friend. I can be a girlfriend. I can be a family member. If I can keep my personality, then I can keep up at it for months if you need."

The other brunette leaned forward. "What about your family? Friends? Are you in a position to pack up your life and leave them for an indeterminate length of time?"

"Yes I am. If you let me run to my apartment and pack a bag, I could be ready to go in an hour."

The brunette next to her smirked. "That's not necessary. We would pick up expenses for a new wardrobe and personal items you would need. Actually, it would be better that way."

Emma started to wonder if this woman, wearing a tight red minidress, had just insulted her fashion choices. She fought down a glare, and settled for looking back at David Nolan.

"Ms. Swan," he addressed her, smile lighting up his face, "I think you are the perfect candidate for this job." He reached into the briefcase beside him and pulled out a file. Mr. Nolan handed it to Emma. The file fell open on her hands to reveal a TIME magazine cover of Killian Jones, lead singer and guitarist of the glam rock band Jolly Roger. His heavily lined bright blue eyes stared up at her.

The long-haired woman spoke up. "We have reason to fear for Killian's life."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idea for this fic came from driving down the road and hearing "The Stroke" by Billy Squier and the sudden image of Killian in leather and eyeliner as a drop-dead sexy rock god. The idea of the bodyguard was, of course, famously done in the Whitney Houston and Kevin Costner movie, but i hope to be semi-original with this story. Chapter title is a Bob Dylan song.


	2. Love Potion Number 9

"So who'd he piss off?"

The tiny brunette looked nervous. "That's the first issue, Ms. Swan-"

"Emma."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Call me Emma. I'm not much for formalities, particularly when I'm working with someone long-term. Just cut straight to the Emma."

The woman smiled sweetly. "Emma. Alright then. I'm Mary Margaret and I'm in charge of PR for Jolly Roger. David is my husband." She gestured at the other brunette. "And this is Ruby Lucas, and she is the hospitality coordinator."

Ruby snorted. "That's a fancy way of saying that I keep the boys drunk and the girls happy. Most everyone refers to me as a Madame, on account of all the work I do with the girls."

"The girls?"

"We have eleven girls traveling with us right now. They all provide long-term companionship to the band, although in a variety of ways. Of course we pick up girls throughout the tour. Some stay for a night, some for a bit longer. But most of them leave after a city or two. Life on the road isn't for everyone."

Emma was itching to get on a bus and drive away. Boston was fine, but it was becoming a bit stale. This job might just help her figure out where her next homebase could be. Talk about killing two birds with one stone.

"So you think one of these girls has been threatening Killian Jones? How so?"

David leaned forward again. "Look in the back of that file, Emma, and you'll find some disturbing materials." He motioned that she should flip through the pages. After the TIME article were some court documents, then tabloid headlines. Finally, she saw printouts of emails from KILLianFan666@hotmail.com. A quick glance at the papers showed Emma she was dealing with the standard stalker fare. Killian's clothing and daily routine were detailed, along with the writer's erotic fantasies and firm promise that the two of them would be "together forever, in life and in death."

"I assume that you've contacted the police?"

David nodded. "We have, but their help has been limited. They tried to trace the emails, but they've had no luck. They offered to beef up security, but we don't feel like that is enough. We're looking for a more delicate touch. We want you to infiltrate the groupies, get to know them, and stay close to Killian."

"And where is People Magazine's sexiest man of the year?" Emma asked, looking around the suite with raised eyebrows.

Mary Margaret looked nervous again. "Killian doesn't share our concern for his safety. He's been against a personal bodyguard from the onset."

Emma bit the inside of her cheek to hold back her frustration. "Then what in the hell am I doing here?"

"What you are doing here," Mary Margaret said firmly, "is agreeing to help protect our friend. If something happened to him..." she paused, eyes brimming over with emotion, "we couldn't bear it." David put his arm on Mary Margaret's shoulder.

Emma was touched. This Killian Jones had a reputation for being a bad boy. But Mary Margaret and David Nolan struck her as being very genuine people. If they cared about him this deeply, perhaps his reputation wasn't telling the whole story.

"I respect and understand your concern, Mary Margaret, but how do you propose that I protect someone who doesn't even want me around?"

Ruby stood up, an excited grin spreading across her face, purse clutched to her chest. "I propose we start by going shopping." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter is really short, but the ones I'm working on are getting longer and longer!


	3. Brass in Pocket

Ruby Lucas' idea of "shopping" was to banish Emma to the dressing room and throw clothes over the door at her.

"The trick to a good travel wardrobe," Ruby was chirping as Emma tried to wriggle into yet another pair of dark-wash skinny jeans, "is to have a color palette. Black, white, and grey are all staples of the rock and roll wardrobe. With your coloring, we'll add in red as well. That's my personal favorite color." Emma could practically hear Ruby flipping her hair again. "And Killian has a thing for red as well. That's a good way to draw his eye in the crowd."

Emma stepped out of the dressing room sporting skintight black jeans and a lose red top that revealed the lacy black bra underneath.

Ruby squealed. "Yes to all three. Damn girl, you look good. I was afraid that you were going to look like a troll, and there's no way that tonight's plan could work if you weren't hot enough."

With a roll of her eyes, Emma turned and stepped back into the changing room. She shucked off her clothes and changed into red hotpants and a black corset. "Can we go over the plan for tonight again? And can you remind me why in the hell I can't just be introduced to Jones?"

"Killian is being pigheaded about this whole thing," Ruby sighed. "He thinks that he's fine and has nothing to worry about. He wants to go about his life as normal. He shut down as soon as we talked about hiring a personal bodyguard. But if he sees a gorgeous woman in the crowd, asks me to invite her back to the hotel, and he hits it off with her, then he'll see that we can have personal security with discretion."

The blonde stepped out of the dressing room again, trying desperately to adjust the corset. "I don't know if this is right for me. It's digging into my spleen."

"But your tits look fantastic," Ruby responded with the raising of an eyebrow. "That's a keeper. Trust me. Everyone appreciates good tits."

Emma grumbled under her breath and returned to the dressing room. "What makes you think me and the rock star will hit it off? I told you, I do better at long-term jobs when I can be myself."

"Oh, I've got a feeling about you, Emma. You and Killian are actually a lot alike. You're both confident, you're smartasses, you're dedicated to your jobs, and you're tough. Since Milah left, the girls traveling with us have been pushovers and the girls he's fucked have all been boring and whiney as hell. Personally, I'm looking for someone to shake things up. And I think he's finally ready for a steady girl."

"You know I'm not a prostitute, right? I'm not going to be fucking him." Emma stepped out of the changing room with black leather knee-high boots, a red leather miniskirt, black leather vest, and red lacy bra.

Ruby moaned lightly. "Damn, in that outfit, you're making me wish that I could fuck you. Shit." She sighed again, dramatically. "Yes, we know. That is not part of your contract. But in order to really infiltrate the group, it has to look like you two are fucking. Regularly. Killian doesn't keep many girls around just because he likes them. He's got three of them right now. Bella's his muse. She's a sweet girl, always reading books and poetry. He says she inspires him. Meg's the one he fucks pretty regularly, but I think she's planning on leaving soon. So that spot will be open. And, of course, there's Tina. But those two have never been like that. She was his brother's girl years ago, and he looks after her now."

Emma played with the hem of the leather skirt. "And he regularly has women brought in from the crowd?"

"Honey, they all do. It is the rock and roll way. The girls that go with us on the road aren't the jealous type."

"I was actually thinking how dangerous that is. Having strange women brought in contact with the band without background checks or anything. If you are really concerned about Jones' life, then that needs to stop. Immediately."

Ruby chuckled darkly. "I'll let you be the one to break that news to Killian. If he's losing Meg, getting a woman who won't fuck him, and can't bring in girls from the crowd anymore... He's going to be sexually frustrated as hell."

Emma shrugged and turned back to the dressing room. "Better that than dead."

"Somehow I don't think he will see it that way."


	4. For Those About to Rock (We Salute You)

As far as Emma was concerned, whoever had come up with the idea of the rock concert was a fucking idiot.

If you really liked a musical act, then buy their CD or watch their music videos on YouTube. Modern musicians were so auto-tuned that their concerts were bound to be complete shit. You either had to hear them lip-sync or come to terms with the fact that they couldn't sing at all. The last concert that Emma had gone to, a pop performance that she had snuck into when she was fifteen, was a complete disappointment. The singer spent more time in wardrobe changes than actually performing.

Needless to say, Emma was not enthused about her evening.

Ruby had dropped her off at her apartment with a suitcase full of skimpy items, mostly leather and lace. Thankfully, she had been able to shake off the eager brunette, who seemed to think that Emma was her newest Barbie doll. Emma had a few hours to get ready.

She put on more makeup than usual and riffled through her new purchases. The best bet would be the leather boots, black skintight mini, and a red leather jacket. But Emma couldn't bear to leave without some of her favorite items in her own closet. She tossed in some vintage rock t-shirts, underwear, and shoes. She'd need pajamas, toiletries, and her electronics.

Emma held up an AC/DC shirt, one that she had definitely not been holding onto for sentimental reasons because she did _not_ care about its previous owner. It was time to drag this out of the bottom of her drawer.

She had just enough time to throw on her clothes, grab her purse, and head out the door. Sadly, the arena wasn't going to allow her to carry her gun. She'd have to be on top of her game tonight.

Ruby and the Nolans had arranged for her to be able to pick up front-row tickets at the box office. As she slid into her seat without a minute to spare before the opening act began, Emma adjusted her shirt nervously. No, not nervously. With excitement. As she looked around, most of the people in her section were wearing Jolly Roger shirts. But Emma's instincts told her that AC/DC was the way to go.

The opening act confirmed all of Emma's reservations about live performances. They were boring, ho-hum singers, and it carried on entirely too long. Emma was forced to stand up because for some fucking reason everyone decided that everyone had to stand at a concert. It was the most idiotic thing about concerts. You could see just fine as long as everyone remained seated. But once you stood up, you were inevitably unable to see anything. And all that left you with was the performance.

Oh dear god, this performance sucked.

Emma was happy to be able to sit down between acts.

"I'm just ready for Jolly Roger, aren't you?"

Emma turned to see a redhead smiling at her. She looked like the kind of girl who had ignored Emma in high school and was now sending her friend requests on Facebook. Emma had to hold back a grimace.

"Hell yes. I didn't pay for front row to see the opening act."

The redhead rolled her eyes. "I know, that was pretty pathetic. But when Jolly Roger comes out..." she fanned herself with her hand "I don't know if I will be able to stand it. I've seen them five times in concert. This is my first time in the front row, and I'm hoping I can make an impression."

Emma was curious. "Impression how?"

"Oh, you know," she giggled. "I want to get pulled backstage. I have a friend who got asked to join the band in their hotel room, and she said that Killian Jones is a sex god. He's apparently very well-hung and he knows what to do with it."

"Ah," Emma responded, unsure of what to say. No wonder so many women joined the band backstage.

At that moment the lights went out and the arena erupted in screams. Emma was saved from further conversation, but she realized that she now had some competition. Red was going to be pulling out all the stops for "Killian Jones: sex god." This wasn't going to be easy.

Good thing Emma liked a challenge.


	5. Welcome to the Jungle

Emma was starting to re-think her position on rock concerts.

Before the lights came back on, the drums started playing. The staccato beat was reverberating throughout her body, sending energy to her limbs. The excitement of the crowd was rising, starting to infect her. Their screams grew louder as the bass guitar joined the drum, then a keyboard. Finally, an electric guitar started playing and the lights started to rise.

The crowd had reached a fever pitch. If this was foreplay, Emma wondered what the collective orgasm would be like.

She got a taste for it as the lights started to flash and spotlights swiveled to the center of the stage. A figure was descending from the heights of the arena. The body slowly came into view. First black boots, then tight leather pants, a bare torso, arms and shoulders wrapped in a leather jacket, and finally Killian Jones had arrived.

His face was shadowed by dark stubble and his black hair was tousled. Fucking men, able to roll out of bed and look amazing. But Killian Jones had not skimped on the eye makeup. His flashing blue eyes were coated with a heavy ring of eyeliner. And the motherfucker wore a cocky smirk on his face like the rumors about his penis were not at all exaggerated.

A flash of annoyance surged through Emma, followed by a warm pool of excitement to her stomach. This asshole seemed to have that effect on women, no matter how determined they were to not think of him that way.

Killian Jones threw his head back and let out a long, perfect note as he continued to descend and the music continued to rise. When he arrived on solid ground, he launched into the first song. It was an upbeat number about partying that Emma had heard on the radio and at clubs. The music was vibrating through her body, making her hips shake and her arms lift above her head.

The lead singer was all over the stage. He was twisting and turning and jumping. He was running over to the other members of the band and singing with them. The crowd's energy was electric, but it was Killian Jones' energy that was starting to really affect Emma. Damn, this man could perform.

The first song was over and the crowd was going wild. A roadie ran out onstage and handed Killian an electric guitar. He slipped it on and started strumming a softer song, making his way towards the crowd. This was a song about heartache, and Emma could tell that it was obviously inspired by Robert Frosts' "Nothing Gold Can Stay." She felt her own heart ache involuntarily.

Killian Jones had finally approached the edge of the stage. It was time to "make an impression."

Except someone had beat Emma to the punch.

The rock star was staring in Emma's direction, but it wasn't at Emma. The redhead had pulled up her tight Jolly Rodger shirt, and she was not wearing a bra. She was shaking her chest vigorously and bouncing up-and-down, all the while maintaining eye contact with Killian Jones. Oh yes, he looked very interested in what she was offering. As the song finished, his tongue darted out of his mouth to slowly lick his bottom lip. Emma felt another flash of desire.

Jones turned on his heel, switched out his guitar for another one, and launched into the third song. This one was about brotherhood, and he spent most of the time rocking out with the other members of the band. When the fuck was he going to get close to the crowd again and give Emma her chance?

It came two songs later with a song about love that Emma had heard at pretty much every wedding she worked at. The guitar was gone again, and Killian had slipped off his jacket, leaving his chest gloriously bare. His muscles were lean and strong and there was a light sheen of sweat across his upper body. He was striding across the stage with all the grace of a dangerous jungle cat. Emma saw a vision of him in the bedroom, crawling towards her on the bed, eyes hooded in desire.

Damn it, she needed to focus.

He was working his way across the stage and singing to the audience. The barricade in front of the first row kept the crowd from getting too close, but he crouched, reached out with his long arms, and skimmed their fingertips.

With a flash of inspiration, Emma quickly wriggled off her red lace underwear, clutched it in her hand, and leaned as far forward as possible on the barricade. When Jones arrived in front of her, she let it dangle from her fingertips and formed her face into a cocky expression that mirrored his.

Jones stopped.

He clutched Emma's hand in his own.

She could feel his gaze working its way up her arm and towards her face, searing her skin with its intensity. When they finally made eye contact, she felt her heart skip. It fucking skipped a beat.

Killian Jones seemed to have a similar reaction. His pupils dilated and his mouth fell open. He was a fish gulping for air, pulled in by Emma's bait. He missed the next line of the song. And the next. It was only when Emma winked and licked her bottom lip that he blinked and came back to reality.

Killian Jones was fuckstruck.


	6. Hard as a Rock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case the chapter title hasn't given it away, this chapter is a little racier. If you are offended by the thought of Killian Jones' penis, this chapter isn't for you.

He needed to start singing again.

Somewhere in the deep recesses of his mind, Killian Jones knew he was performing. He _knew_ that there were thousands of people that paid to watch him and the guys perform. But he also knew that he couldn't care less.

Fuck 'em.

Those thousands of ticket holders didn't mean anything to him as he crouched on the edge of the stage, bewitched by glorious green eyes.

They were halfway through their three-month tour and things were growing stale. This was the stage where Killian usually began composing his next album and started to care less about the previous one. Performing every night could get tiresome, and he was ready for the two-day break after they finished in Boston. A shapely redhead had flashed her full tits to him a few songs ago and he had figured she could keep him company over the hiatus.

But right now, redheads were the furthest thing from his mind.

He had to give this blonde vixen a hand. Panties and brassieres were routinely thrown on the stage during his performance. But never had they been handed to them by someone with a look of challenge in her eyes. He was used to lust-filled adoration.

This was new.

The enchanting blonde winked at him and licked her luscious bottom lip. Blood rushed to his groin, stirring him back into reality. He blinked in surprise and his eyes left hers. Begrudgingly, he started singing again. Killian allowed himself one moment to memorize her face and her attire before he continued his movement across the stage. The adoring crowd needed his attention.

It wasn't until he had finished the song, ending up next to Graham on stage left, that he realized he still had her red panties clutched in his left hand. The lace was warm to the touch, and unless Killian was mistaken, there was a hint of moisture clinging to them. He stuffed them in the back pocket of his leather pants before he was tempted to do something wickedly obscene.

He was so fucking hard.

Graham leaned towards him and wriggled his eyebrows suggestively. He had obviously seen the panties, but not noticed the few lines that Killian had missed. Thank goodness. It was bad enough to be thrown off by a woman. It was even worse if his mates gave him shite for it.

This girl had surprised him. It was only fair he surprise her too.

Killian leaned towards Graham and told him the plan. Graham shrugged and headed toward Robby to let him know. Graham was always one to follow orders without question. That was one of his best qualities. Killian jogged over to tell Auggie the same thing, trusting that he would inform Phil.

"How are you doing tonight Boston?" Killian screamed out, eliciting a roar from the crowd. "I can't hear you. I said: how are you doing Boston?" The screams were louder and Killian couldn't stop a smile from spreading across his face.

He would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy the power of a microphone and an obsessed crowd.

"The boys and I have been together for quite a few years now. One might say that this is the longest relationship of my life."

The crowd chucked and cheered at that, and Killian caught a lewd comment or two above the ruckus.

"But one would be wrong," he continued with a mischievous smile. "Because there has been something in my life longer than any person, longer than any mates or ladies who have come and gone. And that something, has been rock!" He yelled out the last word, eliciting another cheer. "And the gods of rock have revealed themselves to me, most profoundly in the form of the greatest rock band of all time, AC/DC!"

Graham started playing the opening chords and Killian reached out his arm, trusting that a roadie would come along with a guitar for him. He turned his back to the crowd, strapped on the electric guitar, and took a moment to adjust his cock. It had been a long time since he had been so turned on onstage. This damn thing wouldn't go away.

"Tonight, we make sacrifice to the gods of rock and all that they have bestowed upon us. We have been given the blessings of good booze, great friends, and hot sex!"

The crowd whooped and hollered in agreement, giving Killian the cue to start singing.

_A Rollin' rock,_  
 _Electric shock_  
 _She gives a lickin' that doesn't stop_

_She line 'em up,_  
 _Push you 'round_  
 _Smokin' rings going round and round_

_Her hot potatoes_  
 _Will elevate you_  
 _Her bad behavior_  
 _Will leave you standing proud_

It was not one of their better-known songs, but Killian had never before sang words so true.

_Hard as a rock (I'm hard as a rock)_  
 _Hard as a rock_  
 _Harder than a rock_  
 _(Well it's harder than a rock)_  
 _Hard as a rock_  
 _Harder than a rock_  
 _(Well it's harder than a rock)_

By the time they had finished the chorus, Killian had finally worked up the nerve to make his way towards her. This was insanity. He hadn't been nervous about making eye contact with a woman since- well, since a very long time ago.

_The lightnin' rod,_  
 _Strike it hot_  
 _Gonna hit you like a Rushmore rock_  
 _(It's gonna hit you like a Rushmore rock)_

_No nicotine, and no pipe dreams_  
 _So low and dirty it's darn right mean_  
 _Hell elevator_  
 _I'll see you later (Yeah, sooner or later)_  
 _no I ain't gonna take it I'm busting out_  
 _(Listen, I'm busting out)_

As they launched into the chorus again, Killian finally looked up and spotted her in the crowd.

She was laughing.

Gone were overt signs of getting his attention. She had shrugged off the red leather jacket and he could better see the AC/DC shirt that she sported. Her head was thrown back in mirth and her hips were moving in time with Phil's drumming. When her eyes met his again, he noticed that she was singing along with him.

She knew every word.

This woman was bound and determined to keep his cock as hard as possible for as long as possible.

_yea_  
 _Hard as a rock_  
 _Harder than a rock_  
 _Hard as a rock yea_  
 _I'm getting harder yeah yeeeeeeeeaahh!_  
 _harder than a rock_  
 _Well I'm harder than a rock_  
 _Hard as a rock_  
 _Baby I'm harder than a rock_  
 _Hard as a rock_  
 _Well it's harder than a rock_  
 _hard as a rock_  
 _Yeah it's harder than a rock yeah_  
 _hard as a rock well_  
 _I'm harder than a rock_  
 _hard as a rock yes_  
 _I'm harder, harder, harder, harder than a rock._

The song wound down, but, with the organic ease that came from ten years of playing together, TNT started flowing out of their instruments, followed by You Shook Me All Night Long. Killian was playing like mad, running around the stage, and having the most fun performing in months - maybe even years.

He kept stealing glances at the blonde. No one else in the crowd mattered. He was playing for her. And it looked like she loved it. By the time they got to their final sing, his temptress was shaking her whole body. Her hips were swaying, her arms were dancing in the air, and she was grinning at Killian. Killian grinned back, not caring about his usual swagger.

When Jolly Roger hit the final note, the lights went out. He knew that the lighting guys were probably trying to get back on track. They'd be pissed as hell for their impromptu tribute. And the Nolans were bound to have some stick up their asses about image or copyrights.

Killian just couldn't bring himself to care.

He jogged backstage, where Ruby was standing with a bottle of water, sweat towel, and a grin. She had always liked the classics. Killian took a swig of water, wiped the sweat from his brow, and grinned in return.

"The blonde in the front row," he hollered over the roar of the crowd, "with the AC/DC shirt - I want her backstage."


	7. Dazed and Confused

As soon as the lights kicked off, Emma came back to her senses.

What the hell was that all about?

Had Killian Jones just sang three AC/DC songs? Did this have anything to do with her shirt?

Was he 'hard as a rock'? For her?

The redhead next to Emma gently nudged her with her elbow. In the dim light, Emma could just make out her curious expression.

"That was weird."

Emma attempted to play it cool. "Weird? How so?"

"None of the blogs said anything about an AC/DC tribute. They've been on tour for six weeks now. That's a big change."

"Yeah, that is kind of weird," Emma shrugged. The redhead turned to face her more fully now, squinting at Emma's chest.

"Is that - is that an AC/DC shirt?"

Emma looked down at her tee and tried to look surprised. She probably looked crazy. "Oh, yeah, I guess it is."

The redhead shot her another suspicious look, and then the lights were back on.

Killian Jones stood in the middle of the stage, waving at the crowd. Everyone was cheering again. Emma couldn't believe that they hadn't all lost their voices.

"Boston, you are certainly looking sexy tonight," Killian purred. Emma had known that he was British, but hearing that accent magnified, and watching the jumbo screen magnify his wriggling eyebrows... these things were _doing things_ to her. Things that could affect her judgment on the job.

She had already let go of her inhibitions enough tonight.

When Jolly Roger started playing an AC/DC medley, she had completely forgotten everything else in the world. These were her favorite songs, and they affected her in a way that nothing else could. Her body moved of its own accord, she was singing along, and she was smiling. She was fucking _smiling_. This was a rare thing for Emma emotional-baggage-the-size-of-a-mountain Swan.

She probably should have done something else obscene to keep the lead singer's attention, but her higher brain functions had been turned off.

The funny thing was, when she looked up, Killian Jones was always looking at her. He was looking right at her, not at the redhead on her right or anyone else. And he was smiling. It wasn't the sexy smile that was being projected on four-story screens for the whole stadium to see. They were big, dopey grins that you would shoot your best friend when you were both singing along to your favorite song on the radio on a long roadtrip.

You know, hypothetically.

The point is, Emma had already let her emotions get the best of her, and the night wasn't even close to being over. This was not a good sign.

Killian had finished his banter and the group launched into another song. This one was sexy. Emma had never heard it before, but the innuendos were clear. She was just starting to get a hang of the chorus when she detected movement between the barricade and the front of the stage.

Her instincts hollered at her that this was _danger_ before her eyes registered the familiar hair and style of Ruby Lucas.

Ruby sauntered over to Emma on ridiculously high heels and leaned against the barricade in an exaggeratedly casual manner. She reached into her purse and pulled out a bright red lanyard with a laminated badge swinging from the end. Ruby made eye contact with Emma and smiled smugly.

"Killian Jones has personally requested that you join him backstage. He said that you can come back any time you wish, but that he would like, and I quote 'for that lass to stay in the crowd and continue making me horny as hell for the rest of the show.'"

Emma snatched the VIP pass dangling from Ruby's fingers. She felt something in her chest and she wasn't sure if it was pleasure or annoyance. She settled for annoyance, because that was what she was used to.

"Glad to see I passed the test," she muttered. Emma slipped the VIP badge over her head and turned around to grab her jacket. The redhead grabbed Emma's arm before she could leave, completely surprising her.

"Do you know him?"

"What?"

"Killian Jones, do you know him? Have you met him before?"

Emma was confused. What was this girl's deal? So she didn't get picked, deal with it. Emma's shook off the girl's grip and shot her a pissed-off look.

"I'm just a fan," she said, before turning on her heel and getting the hell out of this crowd of psychos.


	8. Nothing Is Real But The Girl

Gods, that show was a rush.

After the AC/DC medley, Killian had sent Ruby out to fetch the blonde lass. He requested that she stay and enjoy the concert first, but when he looked in her direction again, she was gone. He caught Ruby's eye backstage a few songs later. She shot him a smirk that said there was more to the story.

This mysterious blonde was surely one for surprises.

He was a tad disappointed that she had neglected to stay and entrance him through the second half of the show. But after she left, his penis became manageable. And he was riding the high of mixing it up at a performance. The vixen would be waiting for him when everything was over. He would have plenty of opportunities to thank her for improving his evening.

After the final encore, the five bandmates headed toward the greenroom. Killian picked up a towel, dabbed at his drenched chest, and hung it around his neck.

"A little eager to get to the greenroom, mate?" asked Graham, catching up with Killian.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Killian grinned. Graham threw a look back to the rest of the band and patted Killian on the back.

"These women will be the death of you, Kills."

Killian sent him a wink. "I hope so."

He swung the door open to the greenroom and saw a room full of women lounging on couches and chairs. Lana and Rory were curled up on a loveseat, and Phil made a beeline to the two ladies. The sisters Anna and Ellie chatted with one another animately, only looking up to smile for a moment when the men walked in. Rita was playing on her phone, her curly red hair blocking her face from Killian's view. Ari, the other redhead, sprung up and gave Auggie a passionate kiss. Robby headed over to Tia and curled his arm around her. Graham popped down next to Ashely, pulling the shy blonde into his lap and burying his head in her neck.

A few girls were missing. Abby was not there. She and Tia did not get along, and it seemed like they would almost rotate nights with Robby. Bella had said she would stay back at the hotel that night with a good book. Meg, the sassy brunette, had been distant lately. The other night she told Killian that she would be leaving in New York, and he was sad to see her go.

That left Tina. Who was sitting next to the blonde from the crowd.

Tina, her own blonde hair pulled into a messy bun at the top of her head, was smiling and talking freely with the woman in the AC/DC shirt. She gestured widely, and it seemed that she had reached a punchline, as the new blonde threw back her head and laughed. The tinkling melody made Killian's heart beat faster.

The two ladies finally spotted him. Tina looked up and smiled. The blonde looked up as well and - well, it was sort of a smile. Her teeth were visible, but it was a nervous sort of smile. And her eyes looked over him appraisingly. He felt a bit like she was shopping for a new kitchen appliance, not that she was looking him over with lust.

It was a new experience.

And it made him unsure.

Killian held out his hand. "I simply must know the name of the woman who knows every word to 'Hard as a Rock.'"

She laughed again, and her face lit up with the joy of it. Killian was struck with the desire to make her smile again and again.

"Emma Swan."

Killian twisted her hand and bent down to kiss the back of it. A lovely blush arose on her creamy cheeks.

Tina caught his eye, looked at Emma, and smiled softly. "I'll just leave you guys to yourself. I'm sure there's something I could be doing." She swooped away gracefully, green dress fluttering behind her.

Killian sat down next to Emma and stretched his long arm over the back of the couch. This was the point where the women usually threw themselves at him.

She didn't move.

Killian waited, unsure of what to do. Emma finally leaned forward, an amused expression on her face.

"So what was all that about?"

"Beg your pardon, love?"

"The AC/DC songs? Did you plan that?"

Killian leaned forward as well, so their faces were inches away from one another. He could smell her scent, like vanilla and cinnamon. Her skin looked like velvet, and he couldn't stop himself from touching her. Killian ran his fingertips along her jawline, caressing and exploring, working his hand down to her neck, tracing patterns with his thumb.

"No, lass, I did not plan that." His voice was a whisper, and he could see how his breath was blowing the fine wisps of blonde hair on the side of her face. "But I wanted to see you smile."

A shiver went through her body, and Killian looked back up at her face. Emma was smiling at him again, but it was a cautious smile. "Mission accomplished."

Killian leaned forward even further, his lips against her ear, and whispered. "I think you'll find that I accomplish whatever I set my mind to. It does not matter how difficult the task may be, when I take it _in hand_ ," Killian paused to grab a firm hold on her hip, "I do whatever I must to finish the job to everyone's satisfaction."

Emma had stopped breathing. Killian pulled back slightly, and for a moment he saw pure lust in her eyes. But they quickly glazed over. She grabbed onto his hand firmly, stopping him from further explorations, and smiled at him demurely.

"I like to stay focused on my jobs as well."

Another innuendo was on Killian's tongue when he was cut off by Ruby, who stuck her head into the greenroom.

"Alright boys and girls, the back exit is cleared out. We're headed to the hotel now. We'll be back tomorrow, but I suggest you take your shit with you."

Killian reluctantly stood up and offered Emma a hand. "Would you care to join us for a nightcap?"

Emma took his hand and a jolt rushed through him. "Sounds perfect."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you guess who everyone is? Our band and its groupies are populated by many of the ladies and gentlemen of Storybrooke, although most of the names have been changed to things that are less obvious.


	9. I Wanna Hold Your Hand

Emma hadn't held hands with a male since she was sixteen.

Okay, she had held hands with a man, but that was when she was dancing at a fancy event or putting handcuffs on a perp or leading a one night stand to the bedroom.

But she hadn't held hands with a _boy_ who gave her _butterflies_ since she was sixteen.

Damn it, Jones was giving her butterflies.

Before exiting the greenroom, Killian had let go of her hand to shrug on his leather jacket. But as soon as his left hand was through the sleeve, he had captured her right hand again and was firmly leading her through the maze of the backstage area.

They were the last two in the group to exit the stage door. Emma could hear the chattering of a small crowd gathered to get a glimpse of the musicians. When she and Jones walked out the door, the cheers got louder. Killian smiled at the fans and waved a hand. He signed autographs and posed for pictures. All the while, he kept a firm hold of Emma's hand. Was he afraid she would run away?

After a few minutes, Killian stepped in close and spoke softly in her ear. "Sorry about this, love. We will be alone soon enough."

He pulled away and shot her a wink before turning to sign another pair of boobs.

Emma felt very awkward. No one was looking at her, and she was not sure what she was supposed to be doing. The rest of the band had disappeared into a large dark van. The flash of cell phone cameras were starting to make her feel dizzy, and she thought she caught a glimpse of that redheaded fan before the crowd became a blur. Emma gripped on to Killian's hand tighter, seeking an anchor in the confusion.

As if he sensed her discomfort, Killian immediately tightened his own grip, looked her in the eye, and started pulling them through the crowd.

"Thank you for coming everyone, thank you." He spoke firmly but graciously. "I have to go, hope you all find someone to warm your beds this evening." Killian shot a playful wink to the crowd before opening the door for Emma and moving his left hand to the small of her back to guide her into the van.

Emma climbed into the front row of seats, next to Tina, and Killian climbed in beside her. Killian immediately sought out her hand again and held it between their legs. Emma stared straight ahead, but, out of the corner of her eye, caught Tina look at their intertwined hands with confusion.

Tina nudged Emma's arm as the van started moving. "Don't you just love adoring crowds?"

Emma's security-focused mindset spoke for her. "Seems a little nuts."

"Love, they're just fans. They won't do any harm." Killian smiled easily at the two blondes, not a care in the world.

The ride to the hotel was fast, and the whole group quickly escorted to the eighth floor. The crowd made their way into room #816, but Emma held back, pulling Killian from moving forward by their still-connected hands.

What the hell was going on? Emma was used to seduction routines on her previous jobs. She was traditionally attractive in a blonde-haired sort of way. Horny old men couldn't seem to help themselves. And Killian Jones should have been an easy target. But the rock and roll god, who she had expected to feel her up the minute they were backstage, was acting like.. he was acting like this was their first middle school date.

What was his game? Emma needed to take charge and move the night along.

She playfully pulled on his extended arm, drawing him away from the closing door to the hotel suite.

"You don't want to join the party, lass?" he arched an eyebrow at her. Those things seemed to have a mind of their own.

Emma slid her hands up his chest and wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing him closer. "I'm more interested in a party of two," she purred.

He moved his hands to her hips, gripping tightly. "I believe that could be arranged, love." Killian drew out the last word, his eyes smoldering and burning into hers. It took all of Emma's willpower not to jump him then and there.

Emma wriggled out of his hold and grasped onto his hand again, pulling him down the hall. "So where's your room, rockstar?"

Killian chuckled and surprised her by sweeping her off of her feet.

Literally.

"We'll be in room #830 tonight." He smirked down at her in his arms and quickly walked down the hall. An awkward, fumbling swipe of his key card, and the door was thrown open.

"What do you say we set sail?"

The words were barely out of his mouth before the lights were flipped on and two figures became visible. Killian swore colorfully. "Dave, Mary Margaret, what the bloody hell are you two doing here?"

Mary Margaret stepped forward with a frightened smile on her pixie-like face. "Killian. We're here because we're worried about you."


	10. Oh Pretty Woman

Killian gently set Emma back on the ground, but kept his arm wrapped around her waist. It was strange. He knew absolutely nothing about the woman, but she felt like a steadying force. He hadn't wanted to let go of her hand since the dressing room. He usually sent his nightly companions on to the van, but he had held on to her for a good ten minutes while interacting with the waiting fans.

She made him feel like maybe he could feel again. Feel something real. 

Her long blonde curls and hearty laugh were all sweetness and her red panties in his back pocket and leather jacket were all sin. She was an enigma, and he liked it. She was the kind of girl for whom men fought dragons and threatened jealous ex-lovers. She seemed like danger and safety all rolled into one intoxicating package. 

"What is this, mate? Some kind of intervention?" Killian addressed David, completely confused.

"Killian, this is about the letters you have been getting from the stalker." David was using his Manager Voice, which always made Killian roll his eyes. Tonight was no different. 

"Do you really think this is the best moment to talk about this, mate?" Killian gestured to the beautiful blonde on his arm. 

The woman in question slid out of his grasp and walked over to stand with the Nolans. "Actually, I think this is the very best moment to talk about this."

What?

Killian smiled sarcastically. "Excuse me, love, but is there something you have failed to mention?"

She widened her stance and placed her hands on her hips. When she lifted her chin and looked him square in the eye, Killian suddenly felt like she was the sort of lass who could defeat dragons and ex-boyfriends just fine on her own. 

"Emma Swan, personal security."

She was also the sort of lass who could lie to to a man and make him believe anything. Great. 

Killian's temper flared. "Fuck it all, Dave. What the hell were you thinking? I told you I did not want a fucking bodyguard, you arsehole!" The double betrayal was more than he could handle after the delightful high of the last few hours. 

Mary Margaret stepped in front of her husband and looked as stern as Killian had ever seen her. "This was my idea. It was all my idea. You might be reckless with your life, Killy, but I won't be." Her huge eyes filled with tears and Killian realized he has lost before this had ever begun. "We need to get to the bottom of this," she continued, "and I won't go risking your life while we wait. Emma has seven years of experience, she is ready to head on the road with us tomorrow, and she's smart. So she is going to come with us, she will profile everyone, and she will protect you. You are not just the leader of this band." Mary Margaret's eyes flashed, daring him to argue. "You are our friend, and I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe."

Killian knew enough to knew when he was defeated. He had never been one for taking orders, but he was not in charge. Guilt formed deep in his belly at the sight of Mary Margaret's unshed tears and he felt ashamed that he had scared her. 

Killian sighed loudly. "You will not back down until I agree, will you, M&M?"

Mary Margaret smiled momentarily at his pet name for her, then frowned again. But Killian could tell she was no longer cross with him.

He passed through the three of them and sank down onto the king-sized bed. Killian ran his hand through his hair and frowned up at his protectors. "I need more details. What is this plan?"

The brunette sat next to him on the bed and wrapped her arm around his waist. "The plan is exactly what I said. We have hired Emma to be your personal bodyguard. She will be by your side at all times protecting you. She will also provide a fresh set of eyes and befriend the men and women who travel with Jolly Roger to gather information. What Emma says goes. She has the final word on all matters of your security. We hired an expert and we will rely on her experience."

Killian saw a smile play on the corners of David's mouth. It was obvious that he was in total agreement with his wife. Resistance was futile.

"One more thing," the manger added, raising a single finger. "Emma's real purpose must remain a secret. If the stalker is one of the groupies or roadies, or is connected to them, then Emma will be able to gather information best if she is not suspected. To everyone outside of this room, except for Ruby, she will just appear to be a new woman who is traveling with us."

Killian's brow furrowed and he looked at the blonde now. "So that means -"

She cut him off with a smirk. "Say hello to your new girlfriend, Jones."

He felt his eyebrows hit his hairline, and then a smirk of his own spread across his face. "So does that mean -"

"Dream on. I'm not a hooker, I'm security."

Killian leaned back on the bed, resting his weight on his forearms. "But love, in order for everyone to believe that you are really with the band, you will have to appear to be _with the band._ I have a reputation for energetic and public dalliances. Appearances must be maintained."

Emma stepped forward and glared down at him, green eyes flashing.

"My job is to keep you safe, Jones. My job is not to fuck you, it is not to suck your cock, and it is not to let you feel me up. My job is to keep some psycho from killing you. And, while we are on the subject, you are done bringing random girls back to the hotel to fuck. That is the most irresponsible and dangerous thing to do with a stalker on the loose." She smiled. "From now on, Jones, you'll be a one-girl rockstar."


	11. Shock to the System

Emma had finally found words to knock that cocky smile off of Jones' face.

Good.

Killian gulped for air, and Emma was reminded of their first meeting mere hours ago. His eyes had grown wide again, but traces of desire were gone, replaced by confusion, surprise, and... was that thoughtfulness in his eyes?

"Tina's not going anywhere." Killian spoke in a flat tone that offered no negotiation.

Mary Margaret nodded vigorously, appalled. "Of course she isn't. That was never even considered."

"And Bella?"

"Same for her. We know how helpful she has been on the songwriting front. And none of us suspect either of them is responsible for the emails."

"How about Meg? You know she's leaving when we get to New York?"

David chimed in. "That's what she told Ruby. Are you two parting on bad terms?"

Killian shrugged dismissively. Emma couldn't believe someone could be so cavalier about their safety. "I don't think so. She's just tired of traveling and she has family in New York. Neither of us were ever too emotionally involved. A good fuck is a good fuck. She'll be fine. My bet is she will erase me from her phone as soon as she steps off of the bus."

Emma was not so quick to dismiss an ex-lover. This Meg was still on her list.

"I will say," Killian drawled, hand reaching up to scratch behind his ear and his eyes darting over to Emma momentarily, "she was a pretty good lay." He paused, eyes widening in sudden understanding. It was about time for his thoughts to catch up with him. "Wait. If Meg is leaving, I haven't slept with Bella in years, and no more calling girls backstage..."

He trailed off as the ominous look spread across his face.

Then Killian Jones swore loudly.

"What the hell am I supposed to do?"

Emma was trying hard to restrain the smile that was threatening to appear on her face. She knew she was doing a horrible job.

"I suggest your right hand, perhaps your left if you are looking to mix it up a bit."

Killian shot her a glare and crossed his arms across his chest. He looked like a fucking five-year-old. Emma rolled her eyes.

"Killian, this is for your own protection," David responded. Killian looked at him now, his eyes flashing _Judas._

"This is not the kind of protection that I prefer, mate," Killian grumbled under his breath.

Emma rolled her eyes again, but Mary Margaret was rubbing Killian's back and making soothing noises. "I know, Killy. I know. But this is only temporary." She kissed Killian softly on the cheek and stood up.

"Am I to assume that this arrangement begins tonight?" Killian asked, looking like he wanted some time to process this new information.

"If we are going to follow through with this rouse," Emma cut in, seeing that the Nolans were on the verge of giving her the night off, "then it would be best if I stayed here tonight. Putting things off will only make it harder for me to assimilate into the group."

Mary Margaret and David nodded in unison. Their synchronicity was a little sickening. Mary Margaret cleared her throat awkwardly. "Well, I suppose David and I better go, allow you two to become better acquainted."

"Emma, do you need anything?" David cocked his head at her. His eyes were checking to make sure she was okay. She waved him off.

"I'm fine." She felt naked without her gun, but she would just have to wait and pick it up in the morning with the rest of her things.

 _Goodnights_ chorused throughout the room. Killian was still grumpy, David and Mary Margaret were satisfied, and Emma tried to sound nonchalant about the fact that she was supposed to spend the night in a hotel room with a man she had just met who was making her feel more alive than she had in years.

No big deal.

It wasn't until the Nolans had left the room that Emma realized she had nothing to sleep in. Nothing less _rocker chick_ that is. She swore under her breath.

"What's the problem, love?" With the Nolans gone, Killian had lost all traces of a child about to throw a tantrum. He just looked weary and a bit suspicious.

"I wanted to ask Mary Margaret if she had pajamas I could borrow."

Killian stood up without a word, crossed the room, and leaned over to rummage in a suitcase. While he was bent over, Emma's eyes couldn't help but drift to his adorable ass. When she spotted the square of red lace peeking out of a back pocket, she blushed.

She had forgotten about that.

He stood up and tossed her some clothes. It was a pair of black sweatpants and a Jolly Roger t-shirt.

"They might be a little big, but they should do for tonight."

He saw the red on her face and froze, looking confused for a second. Then he immediately averted his gaze and smiled to himself, having reached the wrong conclusion. "No need to worry, lass, I will sleep on the couch."

"No, I - uh, I -" Emma stuttered, trying to get her thoughts back in line. She still wasn't wearing underwear and he was not wearing a shirt and it would be so easy for her to cross the room and take off the rest of their clothes and-

No.

No she wouldn't. Because she was a professional.

Damn it.

"I'm always a gentleman, love. You needn't worry about that while you are in my employ." He walked past her and stopped at the bathroom door. "I will freshen up and give you a chance to do the same. Make yourself comfortable."

"Jones. Wait."

Killian paused, eyebrows raised again.

"Yes?"

"Could I -" Emma couldn't believe that she was asking this. "Could I have my underwear back, please?"

His tongue darted out of his mouth again to lick his lips and Emma felt her resolve crumbling. All he needed to do was touch her and she would be his.

Killian Jones slowly reached into his back pocket and drew out the red lace panties. He took two steps forward and placed the underwear on top of his clothes. Killian looked her right in the eye and she felt her heart skip again.

"As you wish, m'lady."


	12. After Midnight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: things get graphic/smutty in this chapter

Damn, he had forgotten the panties. The scrap of scarlet sin that had started this whole night.

With as much bravado as he could summon, Killian gently placed the undergarment in Emma's arms and gave her his best bedroom eyes.

"As you wish, m'lady."

She gave him the least impressed eyebrow he had ever seen and stared him down until he slipped into the bathroom.

But now all he could think about was the underwear and the moment she had handed them to him onstage and how hard his cock had grown and - _shite! There it was again._ Killian turned on the tap and let his clothes pool at his feet. When he stepped into the hot shower, he squirted some of the hotel conditioner on his hand and rubbed up and down his rock-hard cock.

His mind was full of images of what could have been. In another world Killian would have carried her into an empty hotel room. He would have pinned her against the wall and kissed her passionately, nibbling his way down her neck and licking between her breasts. The blonde would run her fingers through his hair then boldly slide her hand down his pants and fondle his stiffening cock.

He would grab onto her thighs and pull her core against his own, enjoying the feeling of her rutting against him, moaning deeply against his lips. He would lift her off of the ground and she would wrap those long legs around him. Killian would carry her over to the bed and throw her down on it. Her long blonde curls would frame her angelic face on the pillow. As he pulled his cock out, she would lift up her skirt, flashing her bare pussy, and wontonly playing with herself.

Gods, when he put those panties in his pocket, he had felt moisture.

You cannot fake that.

With the quiet gasp, Killian came, his warm seed spilling on the shower floor. He picked up the soap and washed up. He felt much, much better.

Well, his lust felt subdued. His heart was another story. Killian wasn't sure why he had latched onto the woman. All he knew about her was her name, her profession, and the look she got in her eyes when she was turned on. Or was that a lie as well? Had everything been carefully crafted to entrap him?

 _Buck up, Killian. Time to be a big boy_. It wasn't worth the energy to let his heart be broken. The lass had simply done her job. No use in getting his panties in a twist about it. She had done her job and now it was time for him to do his: finish this tour. Getting worked up about a woman trying to save his life was an idiotic way to respond when someone else was trying to destroy it. From now on, he would be professional.

When he stepped out of the restroom, towel around his waist, the bed was empty. Emma lay on the couch instead, wrapped in a blanket and frowning down at her phone. All clear-headed thoughts of professionalism flew out of his mind when he caught sight of Emma Swan wearing a Jolly Roger t-shirt. He had sudden and unbidden images of her wearing only the shirt, luring him into the bedroom. Images of her wearing only the shirt, watching a movie marathon in his seaside home. Images of her only in the shirt, picking out an outfit for an award show. Killian blinked rapidly to clear away the pictures of domesticity. What the hell was it about this woman? And why was she not in the bed?

"Love, I told you that I would take the couch."

"I would rather be next to the door," she replied shortly, never looking up. Stubborn and beautiful. His Achilles heel.

"But that couch is hardly adequate-"

"Believe me, there were times when a carpeted floor was a fuckin' dream." She finally looked up and smiled darkly.

Was she talking about her security jobs or her personal life? He wanted to know more about this mysterious woman. Where did she come from? What was her history? How did she become a bodyguard? He knew that he could trust her. For some reason, he instinctively trusted her with his life. But that didn't stop the buzz of curiosity.

But if he wanted to learn about her, sleeping arrangements was not the hill he wanted to die on.

"As you wish, Swan. You are the boss." He bowed slightly and climbed under the thick comforter of the king bed. It felt too big.

Hesitantly, Killian reached over and turned off the bedside lamp. The light from her phone went right out. He waited, wondering if he should say something. After a minute, he cleared his throat. "Well, goodnight." His voice felt too loud.

"Goodnight," she responded. Her voice in the darkness was as soft as the velvet of her skin and Killian felt all his muscles relax. He didn't know what was going to happen, but if she was in charge, he knew he would be well taken care of.

Killian wanted to wait to hear her breathing regulate before succumbing to sleep, but he was too damn tired. When he drifted under, he knew she was still awake, protecting him.


	13. Take It As It Comes

Someone was knocking on the door.

Emma awoke instantly, sitting up and instinctively wrapping her hand around her gun and aiming it at the sound. A deep voice to her right chuckled.

"Planning on texting someone to death, love?"

Emma's sleep-fogged vision cleared and she realized she was holding her phone. Killian's voice and her surroundings brought everything rushing back. She was in a hotel room with a rock star, and her gun was back at her apartment. Damn it.

The pounding grew louder and a woman called through the door, "Killian, open up!"

Jones made to move toward the door but Emma stopped him with a cautious hand. She silently crept across the room and looked through the peep hole. A petite brunette was on the other side, wearing a stylish dress and clutching a tablet. The girl looked worried, and started rummaging through her large purse.

Emma crept back to Killian and described the woman in hushed tones. Killian only rolled his eyes and shoved the bedsheets aside.

"It's only Bella. She wouldn't harm a mouse."

Killian slid out of the bed, set his feet on the ground, and oh my god, he was naked. Emma only had a moment to register how the line of hair on his chest trailed across his stomach and led the way to a penis whose size had _not_ been exaggerated before she was averting her eyes and blushing.

"Enjoying the view, Swan?" He sauntered to the couch and when Emma looked again he had wrapped her blanket around his waist. "Consider it a perk." He winked cheekily and went to unlock the door.

"Oh, and Swan?" He turned around to glance at her again, all smugness.

"Yes?"

"Do try to look properly ravished, will you?"

With a defiant glare, Emma yanked his sweatpants off and kicked them towards the suitcase. She crawled under the covers and tossed out her hair. Killian's mouth dropped open for a moment, and then he closed it and the swagger was back. He deftly unlocked and opened the door, greeting the woman with open arms.

"Bella! To what do we owe this pleasure?"

"I've come to serve as a warning." Bella walked straight past Killian. When she caught sight of Emma, she looked utterly unsurprising.

"Whatever are you talking about, love?" Killian asked, settling down next to Emma.

Bella fiddled around with the screen on her tablet and stuck it in Killian's face, the screen displaying a trashy tabloid website.

**Rock Star Sings Tribute for New Girlfriend**

Killian swore under his breath and Emma grabbed the tablet from Bella's hand. The article had several pictures of Emma: in the crowd dancing, getting her backstage pass from Ruby, and holding hands with Killian after the show. According to the website, Emma Swan was Killian Jones' new girlfriend and things were serious enough that he would switch up the setlist and sing her a trio of sexy tunes.

"I just wanted to stop by and warn you before Mary Margaret got on the warpath." Bella's smile was supposed to be helpful, but Emma could detect a hint of teasing as well.

"Bloody hell," Killian murmured, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I cannot believe this." He reached out an arm and hooked it around Emma's waist, pulling her flush against his side. Emma's breath caught in her throat for a moment. "And I'm sorry, Emma, love, I didn't mean for this to happen."

Bella looked between the two of them quizzically.

"Oh, I am so sorry, introductions must be made!" Killian gestured between the two women. "Emma, this is Bella. And Bella, this is Emma, my..." He trailed off, looking at Emma to finish his sentence.

Emma giggled her best college girl giggle and burrowed her head into Killian's neck. He stiffened for a moment before relaxing. _Play along, Jones._ "Oh Killian, I think we can tell her." She giggled again and looked up into his eyes demurely.

"Are you sure, love?" His eyes were asking a million questions that Bella really did not need to see.

"No need to be embarrassed, Jones." Emma playfully pushed against his side with her shoulder and turned to look at Bella. "Killian and I met online,"

"Online?" Bella's eyes had grown wide.

Emma looked down shyly then back to Bella. "Yeah. We met on a chat site and we were talking about classic rock and music and all sorts of stuff. We just hit it off and we really wanted to meet face-to-face. I suggested the Jolly Roger concert, and imagine my surprise when the guy I've been talking to every day tells me he is the lead singer of the band!"

Bella was still suspicious. "I heard there was something about a pair of underwear."

Emma flushed red again. Was she ever going to live this down? But Killian stepped up and fielded this question. "That's my Emma. She surprised me with that one. So I decided to surprise her with some of her favorite AC/DC songs. Can't believe the tabloids picked it up and actually got it right this time." Killian burrowed his own head in her neck and started softly kissing a line down to her shoulder.

Emma's toes curled.

"Hmm, Killian, that is quite the story." Bella wasn't convinced. Emma ran her fingers through Killian's hair and pulled his lips off of her. He pouted adorably.

Killian looked back at Bella and smiled. "Quite the story indeed, love. And it gets better. Emma has just agreed to join us on the road."

Bella's eyes went wide again. "Really?"

Emma smiled and shrugged. "The temp agency doesn't mind if I take some time off. How could I turn down a chance to tour with a Grammy-winner?" Killian smiled broadly and pulled her even closer to him, his hand slipping down her hip to cup her ass. He was going to get smacked for that later.

The brunette looked utterly bewildered, but not longer doubtful. "Well, Emma, happy to have you on board. Let me know if you need anything, and if you have any questions I would be happy to help. Traveling with a rock band is quite an experience. I hope you enjoy your time."

Emma just turned to Killian with a wicked smile. "Oh, I have already found my time with Killian _quite_ enjoyable."

"Well then," Bella stammered, clearly embarrassed, "I will just see myself out. I'm in room #827 if you need me, Killy." Bella left the room, shooting them one more look of surprise before making her exit. As soon as the door slammed shut, Emma roughly shoved Killian away.

"Next time you grope me like that without my permission, you lose the hand, Jones."

Killian just rolled his eyes and stood up, letting the blanket fall. "Oh please, Swan. I was just following your lead. You're pretty quick on your feet, love."

Emma frowned at the compliment and the sight of Killian exposing himself again. She turned to pick up her clothes from the night before. "I hope you're quick behind the wheel, Jones. We need to go pick up my stuff and you're driving. Get dressed."


	14. Take Me Home Tonight

"Blood hell, Swan, have you been robbed?"

Emma turned back to look at him staring from her apartment doorway. She surveyed the room, then returned her gaze to Killian, momentarily confused. Then she frowned.

"No. Now stop judging my place, and, for that matter, stop right there." She held up a hand. "I'll only need a minute." Her words echoed off the empty walls of her apartment. Emma slipped into another room, but Killian ignored her warning and stepped further into her home.

If you could call it that.

To call her apartment Spartan was to be generous. A single couch and coffee table faced a tiny tv. The kitchen counters were empty, and a quick glance in her refrigerator yielded a jar of mayonnaise, two green apples, and a bottle of aloe vera. The apartment was completely devoid of ornamentation or sentimentality. Did this woman even have a life?

"Oi! Swan! Whatever you get paid to risk your life must be shite." Killian followed Emma's trail and found himself in her bedroom. Although it seemed to be more like her closet. Clothes were strewn everywhere: splashed across the floor, pouring out of drawers, piled on top of the bed. Shirts, skirts, dresses, pants, sweaters, and - _oh! What was this?_ Killian was just reaching for a pair of black underwear hanging from the doorknob when he was startled by her voice.

"Keep your hands off of my panties, Jones." Emma appeared in the doorway of the en suite bathroom. She had managed to quickly change while he was in the other room, and Killian was momentarily disappointed that he had missed the chance to see those long, beautiful legs again. The sight of her in his shirt and in his bed this morning... _Bloody hell._ But now Swan wore jeans, a striped red-and-white tank top, and a glare.

Killian reluctantly drew back his hand. "My apologies love, I was only wanting to help you pack." Killian smirked and Emma rolled her eyes. This routine was already familiar, and he had only known her for a day.

Emma pointed to a large red suitcase next to her bed. "You're too late, I'm already packed. But you can help me haul that downstairs." Emma ducked back into her bathroom, and Killian made his way towards her bag. As he reached forward to grab onto the handle, his eye was caught by a flash of white. Killian picked the fabric off of the bed and his breath caught in his throat.

It was a stark-white dress, and it was exquisite. The gown fell to the ground, and it flowed in a way that reminded him of lovely feathers. He could picture Emma wearing it, spinning in his arms at some expensive event. Her hair would be elegantly swept up and her cheeks would be flushed from the temperature and the feeling of his body pressed close to hers and-

"Ut da vuk?" Emma was watching him from the bathroom door again, a toothbrush dangling from her lips. She looked rather cross. The damn woman needed to stop interrupting his reveries.

Or maybe Killian needed to stop dreaming about Emma.

"Just admiring this dress, Swan. Why aren't you bringing it?"

"Oots newt ooby apwuved."

Killian waved his arm. "Bah, who cares what the Madame thinks? This is Killian Approved, and I say it goes." He rolled the dress up into a ball and shoved it into the suitcase. Emma only shrugged and disappeared back into the bathroom.

Ten minutes later, they were back in his car (or rather, the rental he had picked up the day before), and Emma looked more relaxed than he had seen her since they met.

"Why so happy, Swan?" Emma had been humming under her breath along with the radio.

"What? Oh, I don't know, its just nice to have my gun on me again." She patted her large purse affectionately.

"You can't possibly bring that with you everywhere. What did you have last night, for example?"

Emma tapped the center console with her fingernails, playing with the beat of the song. "Oh, it depends. I'll try to have a small knife on me, or at least a pocketknife or Swiss Army knife. I know that a set of keys will work in a pinch, although it is not my first choice." She reached into her purse. "But last night I brought these." Emma pulled her hand out, dangling a pair of handcuffs from her finger.

Killian suddenly felt very warm.

"You - you had those on you last night?"

It was Emma's turn to smirk, and she shifted towards him, mischief playing in those jade eyes.

"Oh yes, I always find that handcuffs can be... _helpful_. Especially in compromising positions." She lingered on the last two words, her gaze dropping to his crotch, where he knew that his cock was stirring to life.

Killian gulped and quickly looked back at the road. This woman was dangerous.

When he pulled into the hotel parking lot five minutes later, Killian could see the mirth still dancing on the corners of Emma's lips. He really needed to find a better use for that pretty mouth of hers.

He had a few ideas.


	15. So You Want to be a Rock and Roll Star

Emma should probably stop teasing the poor man, but damn it, he was such an easy target.

With a soft _clink_ the handcuffs fell into her purse. She soaked in the sharp tang of sexual tension that hung thick in the silence. She wasn't planning on doing anything with Killian Jones, at least not sexually, but she hadn't flirted like this in ages. It was fun and different. She was used to dinner dates with targets or hitting on hot men at clubs. Her flirtations were short, and sexual encounters were even shorter.

She wasn't used to playing the long game.

The last time Emma had engaged in prolonged banter with a male was when she was fifteen, and that was long before she had understood the way that men could cave to her will through a subtle eyebrow or a single word whispered in their ear. It was before she understood the true power of cleavage or how to demand exactly what she wanted in the bedroom. Flirting with Jones was giving her a thrill. She knew would need to stop soon, but it was the danger that was making this job twice as satisfying.

When they arrived at the hotel, Killian took a deep breath as if to say something about the handcuffs, but Emma opened the door before he had a chance. She walked back to the trunk, which is how she didn't notice them right away.

"Damn it, the paps."

"Huh?" Emma squinted at his frown in the bright sunlight.

"Paparazzi, love. They've come to enjoy the view." Killian smiled sarcastically as he pulled out her suitcase. By the time he had closed the trunk and turned around, the smile had become charming, although it didn't quite reach his eyes.

Standing between Emma and Killian and the hotel door were a half dozen reporters. She saw some digital cameras, a few notepads, and at least one camcorder. They looked like Christmas had come early.

"Killian!"

"Killian! Over here!"

"Killian! Who's the girl?"

Killian's arm wrapped around Emma's waist with a possessive squeeze. "Isn't she lovely? I really am a lucky man." His swagger was at an all-time high, and Emma was feeling whiplash from all of the different personas she had seen in the last twenty-four hours.

Emma just wrapped her own arm around Killian's waist and pulled him tighter. It was better if she stayed quiet and rode out this first encounter with the press.

"Killian! Is this your new girlfriend? What does she do?"

His grip was strong as he continued leading Emma toward the hotel. "Boys, I must respect the lady's privacy. If you will only allow us to pass-"

"Are you finally over Milah?"

The question stopped Killian dead in his tracks and the fake smile on his face melted like cheap plastic in the sun. He turned to look at the man who had asked it, eyes cold with fury.

"Fuck. Off."

Killian looked ready to strike, and Emma had to think fast. She held him back with a hand on his chest, her voice a low warning. "Killian."

He didn't avert his gaze.

She attempted a softer approach. "Killian. Darling." The endearment caught him off guard, and broke eye contact with the reporter, turning to look down at Emma with surprise. She moved her hand up to the side of his face and gently stroked his stubbled jaw. Slowly, his eyes warmed and the corners of his mouth started to lift. Emma couldn't help but mirror his smile.

"Come on, darling." Emma hooked her arm around Killian's waist again, pulling him towards the hotel door. "Let's go back to the room and relax."

Killian allowed himself to be dragged forward, and the two of them were quickly in the lobby and away from prying eyes.

The intensity of the moment had left Emma strangely flustered, and she wasn't able to look at him again until they were in the elevator. "What was that all about?" The words that had felt cautious in her mind came out more harshly than she had intended.

He blinked and seemed to come out of a daze. Killian's anger from outside returned in full-force and he spat out his reply. "Don't you do any research, Swan? Milah was my first love. She was a supermodel, I was a musician. Perfect pairing. Three years ago she leaves me for Raymond Gold, millionaire reality star. We haven't spoken since."

Emma was struck by the urge to push his dark hair off of his forehead and sooth him once again with tenderness and endearments. Before she could give into this strange new feeling, the elevator opened on the eighth floor with a loud _ding!_ and the spell was broken.

The pair exited the elevator and immediately ran into Bella. Killian smiled darkly and wrapped an arm around Bella's shoulders. "Ah, Bella my love, whose light shines into the darkest corners of my pathetic life - how are you doing?" Killian swooped to plant a kiss on her cheek and Emma caught the woman's look of confusion.

"There you are Killian. Mary Margaret is looking for you."

Killian rolled his eyes dramatically. "We cannot keep the Queen of Public Relations waiting, can we? _No_ , we must obey her every order and play nice to the piece of shite reporters -"

Bella took Killian's chin in her hand and shook it. "Killian, what is the matter with you? Get yourself together and go see Mary Margaret." The brunette had fire in her eyes, and Emma was hoping that someone else could put Killian Jones in his place.

Bella turned her gaze to Emma and her eyes softened in sympathy. "Emma was it? Do you want to leave your stuff with me, Meg, and Tina down the hall? We keep our room cleaner than some of these girls."

Killian pulled Emma against his side again, and this time his grip was stronger than it had ever been. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of her stomach and she could feel the self-loathing coming off of him in waves. It made her feel sick. "Emma will be bunking with me tonight, Bella. And every night in the foreseeable future."

Bella nodded shortly, understanding. "I'll let Meg know. Perhaps it is for the best that she will be leaving in a few days."

His clenched jaw suddenly released and Emma watched his cold eyes flood with regret. Bella had gotten through to him. Killian reached out and grabbed the brunette's hand, lifting it up to his lips. "I'm sorry, Bella, for -"

She shook her head and cut him off. "You have nothing to apologize for, Killy. That is all long over." Killian kissed the back of her hand but kept it floating near his mouth. Bella flicked her gaze to Emma and then back again. "Just - play nice, okay?"

Bella gave the pair a tight smile and took back her hand and to offer Emma a friendly pat on the shoulder. With the muffled sound of her heels on the plush hotel carpet, Bella left the two of them alone.

Killian's eyes swirled with complex emotions. Something in Emma's heart stirred and she knew that she shouldn't be this concerned with a client's state of mind. Then he grunted and stepped forward, pulling Emma with him towards room #815.

"Come on, love, let us go see the Queen and receive our orders."


	16. Breathe

Damn these fucking women. Damn them all.

Killian was sick of the way that the women in his life were manipulating his emotions. Mary Margaret was always telling him what to do, making him feel bad about taking risks. Tina would give him _that look_ every time he started to have some fun, telling him to think about what had happened to Liam. Bella was playing the same game today, trying to make him feel guilty about how he was treating Emma.

And Emma. Don't even get him started on Emma.

What the hell was her deal? She flirted with him one moment, she gave him hell the next, and then she called him darling. _Darling?_ Her range of personalities were too much for him to process right now. For a woman who was to be protecting him, she seemed to have fun at beating him down.

And wrapped around it all, swirling in his memories, was Milah. Beautiful, fun-loving Milah. He had been by her side through lost contracts, rivalries, and her years of anorexia. Killian had stuck through it all, but as soon as his life started to grow rocky, she had disappeared. She had moved on to greener, richer pastures. Milah, now "Milah Gold," had shattered his heart into a million pieces. It had been three years since she had left him, but he was still a sodding mess from just hearing her name.

Damn her. Damn her to hell.

Killian took a long moment to collect himself before knocking on the hotel door. He took a deep breath and tried to think of something calming.

He needed to Breathe.

The fingers on his left hand unconsciously traced the chord progressions as he let the familiar Pink Floyd song play in his mind.

_Breathe, breathe in the air_   
_Don't be afraid to care_   
_Leave but don't leave me_   
_Look around, choose your own ground_

After a minute, Killian opened his eyes to realize that he still had Emma clutched to his left side. He slowly released her, finger-by-finger, and knocked on the door. When it opened, he motioned for Emma to enter first. She did so, shooting him a strange look.

"We ran into Bella, she said you were looking for Killian."

It was strange, but as soon as Emma stepped out of the public eye, she regained her towering authority. Killian had to appreciate the way her strides grew longer and her chin subtly rose, increasing her confidence tenfold. She walked across the room and sat herself in a chair like she owned the place. Killian followed, flopping onto the couch with a huff.

"I was looking for both of you. Can I get you two anything?"

"Yes, a little privacy, love." Killian's irritation had not fully subsided.

Mary Margaret shot him a confused glance and sat down in the other chair. Emma cleared her throat. "We, uh, we ran into some reporters outside of the hotel."

The brunette sighed and pulled out her tablet. "I assume that you have seen the articles this morning?"

Emma snorted. "In all their pixelated glory."

Mary Margaret swiped across her screen fiercely, annoyance written on her face. "I just wonder where they got the pictures."

"Ten bucks it was that redhead. She seemed a little off."

"Redhead?" Mary Margaret looked up, a deep crease on her brow.

"Yeah, the redhead next to me in the front row." Emma turned to Killian. "The one who, you know.." she gestured to her chest and raised her eyebrows.

Killian had no idea what she was talking about but was enjoying the fact Emma was drawing his attention to her boobs. Breasts always made him feel better.

She sighed in annoyance and dropped her hands. "The one who flashed you her tits, you idiot. The one you ogled."

Somewhere in the deep corners of Killian's mind he remembered a bare-chested redhead. But, truth be told, he hadn't thought of her a bit since Emma had handed him his panties the night before. He feigned understanding. "Ah yes, her."

"She seemed just the type to be a jealous psycho bitch. She looked ready to murder me when Ruby came over with a backstage pass. If you have crazy fans like that who love you, I don't want to imagine the ones who hate you." Emma scowled.

"If a fan was that affected by my dalliances with someone else, I cannot imagine that a stalker would be pleased by a new serious girlfriend." Hope rose in Killian's chest. "Perhaps we should stop this rouse before it gets started. Keep this stalker happy."

Emma shook her head fiercely, tossing her curls side-to-side. "No, this really is the best thing to do. A stalker is only going to come out of the woodwork if they're pissed. This is the best way to make her angry. Give her a target to hate. Eventually, she'll lash out on you or me. And that's when we catch her."

Mary Margaret was nodding in agreement. Killian knew that he had lost once again. "I agree. The press has already latched onto you and your new girlfriend. If what Emma says is right, then the best thing to do is feed that fire. We'll let them think you two are together. That gives the best cover for Emma's presence, as well as making our stalker upset. When she gets emotional, she'll do something stupid and we can benefit. Now," Mary Margaret clapped her hands together, "what happened outside the hotel just now?"

Killian and Emma exchanged a look.

"We looked cozy enough. I held my arm around Swan, told everyone that I was a lucky man but did not want to disclose her identity. Then some arsehole brought up Milah and -" Killian's blood pressure rose again at the thought.

"And then Killian almost kicked his ass." The corners of Emma's mouth curled up. "I held him back and we came inside."

Mary Margaret frowned. "That's it?"

Emma shifted in her seat. "They probably got some pictures of us looking into one another's eyes."

"Good, that all sounds good." She nodded in approval. "Now Emma, will we be able to disclose anything about your identity?"

The blonde shifted again, then shrugged. "I guess, but there isn't much to tell. I don't have any social media profiles, no articles written about me. Your standard Google search isn't going to yield anything. I spent a few years in juvie, but those records are sealed."

Juvenile detention? The mystery just grew deeper. Killian pictured Emma in a bright orange jumpsuit with a crude, homemade shank. It turned his stomach to think of her in a place like that.

Emma continued on in a businesslike tone. "The high-profile nature of these new developments changes things, you understand. If I am touted as the girlfriend of a world-famous rock star, then I will not be able to return so easily to my regular jobs. I do expect that my final check reflects this new reality."

Mary Margaret hummed under her breath. "That makes sense. We will keep that in mind, Emma, and make sure we come to an arrangement we can all be happy with. Anything else I need to know?"

She shot Killian another look, but he shrugged to let her handle it. "Bella came to visit us this morning. She was suspicious, so I said that we met online. I figured it would explain why we were so quick to commit. I told her I work for a temp agency, which is the kind of lie that no one asks further questions about."

"Swan was bloody brilliant."

Emma turned to look at Killian again, surprise in her green eyes.

"She thinks on her feet and she's smart. We could have done a lot worse."

"Thanks Jones." Her cheeks turned a delicious shade of pale pink and Killian what other words of flattery would please her. It was terrifying to consider.

Killian smirked and raised his eyebrows, reverting into his playboy attitude. "I meant we could have done a lot worse in the looks department, love." He looked her up-and-down, indulging himself for the first time that day. "You know, I believe that tonight my penis will need protecting -"

Emma rolled her eyes, but Mary Margaret glared. "Killian, shut your mouth. If you don't watch it, Emma will be the one who murders you in you sleep. And I'll let her."

"Anything else you needed from us?" Emma was back to business in a flash.

Mary Margaret waved them away with a dismissive flick of her wrist. "No, no, I think that's enough. I'll release a press release that Killian Jones' private life is his business, blah blah blah, respect his privacy, blah blah blah. We'll give you two a few public outings, they'll get more pictures, then Killian will say something about you at an interview. We don't want to push it or they'll think the whole thing is a hoax. You gotta play coy."

Emma nodded shortly and stood up to leave.

"Oh, wait, one more thing." Mary Margaret was barely paying attention to the pair, her fingers already tapping on the screen's keyboard. "Stay backstage tonight, Emma. Watch the show from the wings, get a feel for our security. But please stay away from the crowd and camera phones. Those so-called "jealous psycho bitch" fans will be hungry for blood, and I don't want you getting mixed up in that."

She looked up and smiled at Emma. Then her gaze went to Killian with a frown before she went back to typing. "Killian, no autographs tonight. Just straight through, and hold Emma's hand like you did last night. That was a nice touch. Let's wait until New York before we start stirring up trouble."

Mary Margaret was clearly done with them. Killian went to grab Emma's luggage again, and the two made their way towards the door. Something was nagging in the corner of Killian's mind, and it took him a moment to realize what it was.

The night before, when Killian had held Emma's hand, it had not been for show. He had done it because it felt good. Being ordered to do so now felt like a cheap imitation of the stirring feelings inside of him.

Killian wasn't so sure that he wanted this thing with Emma to be an act. And that uncertainty was bloody scary.


	17. Crazy Train

"You did not!"

Emma nodded. "We did! Why is that so hard to believe?"

Tina smiled and glanced up at the stage, where Jolly Roger was having a brief afternoon practice. "I don't know, I just can't see Killy going in some chat rooms to anonymously pick up girls." She snorted. "Lately he's enjoyed throwing around his star power."

Emma slouched down in her seat, propping her feet on the row in front of them. "I guess I can understand it. You get so sick of people seeing you in one way, you'll do whatever it takes to get people to see you differently, no matter what that means." She waved at the stage. "Maybe Killian wanted someone to see the real him, past all the celebrity bullshit."

"Shit, what happened to you?" Tina was giving her a knowing look and Emma gulped. She didn't need this woman to see the truth lingering behind Emma's words. The truth of how much she loved disguising herself as someone different in order to escape the dull pain of what it was like to be Emma Swan. She was supposed to be pumping Tina for information, not getting life advice.

"Nothing."

Tina gave her a long look, then shook her head. "Alright. But he's been through some real shit too. I guess I can see why you two would like each other." There was a long pause. "Just... be careful, okay?"

"He's a bit of a heartbreaker, huh?"

"What?" Tina smiled and chuckled. "Well, yes, I guess he kind of is. But I saw the way he looked at you last night. I was hoping that _you_ would be careful with _his_ heart."

Emma needed a minute to process that one.

"What do you mean?"

Tina took a minute before answering. She pulled a pack of gum out of her purse and carefully unwrapped a piece. Tina offered one to Emma, who declined with a tight smile. As she popped the gum into her mouth, Tina hummed contemplatively. "Killy doesn't let many people in. He's used to fucking girls for the night and letting them go the next day. If he met you outside of all of this-" Tina gestured to the massive stadium, "-then he let you see a side of himself that only a handful of people get to see. I hope you don't abuse that."

Emma felt a wave of guilt wash over her. She had been abusing her power over Killian. He was quite obviously depressed, craving love and attention. She had spent too much time teasing him and flirting with him. She needed to get back to work.

Her job was to protect Killian Jones. There was no room for any feelings getting in the way.

Emma quickly changed the subject. "What about Meg?"

"Meg? Have you met Meg yet?" Emma followed her line of sight towards a pretty brunette. The woman was standing a few aisles away, hand resting on a dramatically cocked hip. Her long brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and she was chatting with another woman, lips curling at the edges in a mischievous smile.

"No, I haven't. But I heard that she and Killian have history."

Tina shrugged. "Yeah, this is Meg's second tour now. She stayed near Killian when he was working on his last album, but I don't think they've ever been too serious. She's been burned a lot too, and I think she enjoyed having a warm body. Meg will be leaving when we get to New York tomorrow, I doubt we'll hear from her again."

"Ah." Emma knew that everyone was saying Meg would be fine, but she was still suspicious of an ex. She made a mental note to do a background check on this Meg.

"Did anyone tell you about the tour schedule?"

Emma played dumb. "No, not at all. What happens next?"

Tina chucked. "Well, you picked a great time to come along. We only stay in a hotel when we do more than one night. Usually we're in the bus. After the show is over, we get some food, have some drinks, and then hop on the bus and take off for the next show. We sleep on the way. Because we're getting a break, we get to stay in the hotel another night. Tomorrow, bright and early, we head to New York and get two days of blissful rest."

"What does everyone do on break?"

"Whatever they want," Tina shrugged. "A lot of us go sightseeing, do some shopping. The band doesn't have to rehearse. Sometimes the boys travel and visit their families, or spend a night or two away from the rest of the group. David usually doesn't make them do any interviews or anything. So it's nice. Two-day breaks are rare, and I'm glad they scheduled this one in New York. Lots more to do there."

Emma was impressed. "Sounds like you are quite the expert on this whole tour thing."

"Honey," Tina smirked and threw an arm around Emma, "when you've been doing this for over ten years, you pick up a lot of secrets."

"Such as?"

Tina ticked off her answers on her fingers. "You learn how to pack efficiently, you learn how to find the best local food, you figure out how to stay out of the groupie drama, and you develop a sixth sense when something is off."

Emma leaned closer in. "Like how?"

"Oh, I can just tell when there is a certain vibe in the group. When there is an extra tension."

"Do you feel it now?"

Tina paused, assessing Emma with a cautious eye. "Yes. Yes I do," she whispered seriously.

"What do you think is going on?" Emma's heart had momentarily stopped beating.

"I don't know." Tina's eyes left Emma's and stared at the band. Their rehearsal was done, but the men were joking around onstage. "But I'm scared that something bad is going to happen. Something beyond my control."

Emma reached out and lightly rested a hand on Tina's knee. "Don't worry, everything will be fine."

Tina's eyes snapped back to Emma, then widened in surprise. For a moment, Emma was afraid that Tina had guessed her secret. But Tina just smiled softly and stood up, smoothing down her wrinkled shirt.

"I'm sure it will. Nice talking to you, Emma. We should get lunch some time."

Emma fully understood the strength of this new ally. She nodded in response. "That would be great."


	18. Just What I Needed

Emma spent the entire concert backstage talking to Ruby.

Killian could feel her gaze on him all night, alternatively scorching him and sending shivers down his spine.

Every time he got a chance to look at her, standing in the wings, she was looking right back at him, strength and awareness in her eyes. He knew without asking that she was soaking in everything. She knew all of the exits, which of the fans were most crazed, and how long it would take to get him away from an attack. He honestly hadn't been worried about any crazy stalker attacking. Their security was decent enough and he trusted that no one would ever try to do him actual harm. He wasn't the type to live his life with caution. He was an artist, damn it. He felt everything down into the core of his being. And he just didn't feel like wasting his energy on being worried.

Nonetheless, it was comforting to have the Swan woman there. She was much smarter than the usual little lackeys the Nolans hired for security, plus she was easy on the eyes.

He got a chance for a single brief exchange during the concert. It was after his favorite song from the new album, one that he and Bella had worked on tirelessly. The music video was especially fun to shoot as he dressed up in pirate leathers and frolicked with wenches on the beach. He couldn't help but remember the weekend fondly whenever he performed the song. Tonight, however, he was considering a very different woman altogether. Flying high, he stepped backstage, breathless, and grabbed the water bottle Ruby offered him. Killian gave the two ladies a lopsided grin.

"Enjoying the show?" The water slide down his throat and Killian had to hold back from letting out a delighted moan.

Emma didn't crack a smile. "Ruby's been filling me in on all of the gossip around here."

"Sounds fun, love. Kiss for luck?" Killian stepped closer, invading Emma's personal space and offering her a damp cheek. The glare she gave him could freeze an ocean.

She scoffed, "how about I just watch your ass?"

Killian grinned again, then slowly turned back around. "I'd despair if you didn't." He strode back onstage, to the cheers of the crowd, careful to put extra sway into his hips. When he reached center stage and launched into the next song, he looked back for Emma's reaction.

She was still glaring, but her creamy cheeks were tinged with pink.

She had totally been checking out his ass.

Killian clung to that small victory for the rest of the concert. He wanted to dazzle her; he wanted to impress her. He threw everything he had into the performance, singing better and flirting harder and prancing like a fucking peacock. He wanted to prove that he was worth saving. That he was worth her time and worth her attention. He wanted to be worth saving.

Even if, most days, he felt like he wasn't.

After the final encore, Killian rushed to Emma's side. Ruby had disappeared, leaving the blonde alone. She offered him a towel and a nervous smile. He took the towel and wiped off his drenched chest. But the smile wasn't enough. His adrenaline was pumping from the performance and from her mere presence. He wasn't ready to stop feeling alive again.

"Nice show."

He wanted to kiss her so badly it hurt. Physically hurt. She bit her lip and quirked a quizzical eyebrow. She was waiting for him to stop standing there like a dolt. He shook his head to clear out the fog and offered her a nervous smile of his own.

"C'mere," he muttered, grabbing hold of her arm and pulling her body close. He wrapped his arms around her and she stiffened, all harsh angles and tense muscles. Killan began rubbing the small of her back and gently placed a kiss on the top of her gorgeous blonde curls. She slowly relaxed in his arms, finally letting her head rest on his bare chest and moving her arms up to wrap around his back.

It was heaven.

"So you must be Emma."

Killian reluctantly let the blonde go at the sound of Graham's voice. He had to settle for keeping his arm hooked around her waist.

He gestured vaguely. "Emma, this is Graham. Graham, this is Emma." Killian hated the way his voice became breathy when he said her name, betraying his feelings. He hated the way she made him feel things. He hated the way that she made him feel curious and alive and pissed off and on fire all at once.

She stuck out her hand and shook Graham's. "Nice to meet you Graham. Great show." Killian harrumphed. Apparently his show was good but Graham's was great. Typical.

Graham was charmed. He had always had a thing for blondes. "Thanks, nice to meet you too, Emma." He glanced at Killian with a smirk. "You must be pretty special, the way Killian has been talking about you."

Emma giggled and looked up at Killian. The pure adoration shining out of her eyes nearly blinded him. He felt as if someone had punched him in the stomach. He could only smile back with the same adoration, his thumb beginning to trace patterns along her hip.

"He's pretty amazing, isn't he?" Emma's voice took on its own breathy quality. All the oxygen left Killian's body. Her hand came up to rest on his chest and she softly placed a kiss on his rough cheek. Killian's heart stopped beating.

Graham's uncomfortable cough brought them both back to life. Killian felt the color rising to his cheeks, and he nervously scratched behind his ear.

"I'll just let the two of you be." Graham raised his eyebrows at Killian and headed towards the dressing room. Killian watch him leave, then realized that they were the last ones to exit the backstage area.

"Lass, would you care to-"

"Looks like he bought it. Its a good start." Killian finally turned back to look at Emma and realized her whole demeanor had changed again. Now that they were alone, she was all business. Her eyes were closed off, and her jaw was set. It was only her body against his side and the receding blood from his face that let Killian know he hadn't imagined things.

It was all a fucking act.

Of course.

He was foolish to think that Emma Swan, badass personal security expert, could care for him outside of her job. Why would she? And it was time for Killian to grow the fuck up and leave his foolish fantasies behind. This was about his life, not about his heart.

Killian dropped his arm abruptly and stepped away. "Graham was fooled. You are an excellent actress, Swan."

Emma's eyes flashed with confusion and something that almost resembled pain. But it was gone in a moment. She held out her hand and offered a cautious half-smile.

"Alright, Jones. Let's go back there and show everyone that we are madly in love."

Killian slipped his hand into hers, threading their fingers together and indulging in the _zing_ of pleasure it brought him. He knew it was dangerous, but he was going to enjoy this charade. He was going to get the most out of a shitty situation, and he was going to allow himself to pretend that he could fall in love again.

His body relaxed as he let the familiar feeling of bravado settle into his bones. This he could handle.

"I don't know about love, lass. But let's show them that Killian Jones can still drive a woman wild."


	19. Enter Sandman

Emma had to admit that she enjoyed spending time with Killian.

They had spent several hours in room #816, a suite where most of the girls roomed. Killian plopped down on a loveseat and pulled Emma down onto his lap. His strong arm wrapped around her and his long fingers traced patterns on her back, her arms, her legs. She was embarrassed to admit to herself that it hadn't taken long at all for her to relax into this persona, into the rock star's girlfriend. Killian made it easy. He was adoring and attentive and always ready to tease. The twinkle in his blue eyes gave her permission to tease right back, and it looked like foreplay to the rest of the world.

Emma didn't want to consider that it may have been foreplay for real.

They spent their time sharing a bottle (or was it two?) of rum and laughing with the group. Killian regaled dozens of tales about life as a musician, all of which captivated his eager listeners. Emma thought they must have heard them a million times. She drew some laughs of her own with improvised stories about their online interactions. In this make-believe world, Killian was an eager, passionate pen pal who had discussed favorite songwriters and musicians. She had found him charming and humorous, if a bit shy. Tina in particular agreed with this assessment, although a few of the other women in the room raised disbelieving eyebrows.

When they retreated back to their room, everyone offered hoots and hollers and crude remarks.

Emma indulged in a long hot shower back in the room, and now she was lying on the sofa, feeling gloriously clean and delightfully buzzed. She watched her toes wriggle on the couch arm and listened to Killian share another tour story.

"And so I hand him back the guitar, he starts playing, and the string snaps right off in the middle of the first chorus. He was furious!"

Emma laughed with her whole body. Her sides hurt. She had laughed a lot tonight.

"That's fuckin messed up."

As their laughs subsided, they lapsed into silence. But it was a comfortable, contented silence.

"Tell me a story, lass." Killian's voice was husky. He had sprawled on the bed, hands propped under his head. His eyes were closed and a smile played on the corners of his mouth.

"What kind of a story?"

"A true story. A real story that happened to you."

Emma was struck by a memory. A journey. A very real experience.

"Her name was Marigold, she was nine years old, and her parents had just died. She had to travel from Boston to Seattle to live with her aunt. But her parents had been killed in a plane crash, and she refused to fly. So her parents' lawyers had to put her on a train.

"When I met her at the train station, Marigold was starched and washed within an inch of her life. Her long blonde hair was in two braids down her back, and she was wearing this cute little blue dress. Didn't look like she had ever had fun in her life. Her parents were filthy rich, so her lawyers could afford to hire someone to escort her across the country. In fact, they preferred it. Business rivals or some shit.

"A cross-country train trip like that takes two days. The entire first day she didn't say a word. Didn't make a peep. Just stared out the window, watching the scenery. I offered her food, drinks, to play games. She just ignored me. Only moved to go to the bathroom and when we had to switch trains.

"On the second day, I woke up and I could hear her crying. She was sobbing. _Wailing._ I couldn't believe that something so small could howl like that. I didn't know what to say, so I just wrapped my arms around her and held her. I tried to sooth her, but her crying just got worse, and it broke my heart. And I just cracked-"

Emma's voice faltered as she remembered the moment on the train with the girl. She took a few deep, steadying breaths.

"I started crying. And then I was sobbing too, and we were two sad little orphan girls crying on this train and we were crying for all the shit in the world we couldn't control and the injustice and the sadness. We probably cried for a half an hour.

"Then Marigold started talking. She told me about her parents, and how they were lovely people, but she hadn't really known them that well. They were always at work or at charity balls or stuff like that. She was mostly raised by nannies, but they never stayed for too long. Marigold missed her parents, but she also missed those nannies, and the cook, and the maid and all the people in her little bubble. And she had never met this aunt in Seattle, and was afraid of what she would find on the other side of the country.

"Marigold and I went into the dining car and we got ice cream. We got those big frozen chocolate malts and we just sat there in silence, in the dining car, and we ate the ice cream. We didn't talk much the rest of the trip, but she looked like she felt a little better. I never lied to the kid and told her it would be okay. I knew that sometimes things just went to hell and there's nothing we can do. So we just had ice cream and I let her be sad.

"That night, we pull into Seattle and the aunt is waiting for us. I think her name was Stephanie. Stephanie was one of those women who just _looks_ like a mom. And she also looks a lot like Marigold, with blonde hair and blue eyes. Stephanie holds out her arms and just picks up Marigold and holds her like she's her own and then they're both crying. I look Stephanie into the eye and I tell her to take care of Marigold. She says that she will, no matter what."

Emma took a moment and wiped an errant tear from her cheek.

"Marigold's sent me letters over the years. Not too regular, and not too long. But she said she was doing okay. Drew me pictures of her and Stephanie baking cookies and going to the park. Normal mother-daughter stuff. She seemed happy. Haven't had a letter in months. Probably due for one."

Emma paused, realization rushing over her, her final words a whisper. "I don't know if I have ever cared about a client as much as I cared about that little girl."

It was a strange thing to consider. Even stranger, perhaps, was the realization she hadn't spoken out loud: she didn't know if she had ever cared about another person as much as she cared about that little girl. It was a sobering thought, and she couldn't help but recognize how sad it was.

Should she be saying this kind of stuff to a client? When she looked over at Killian, he hadn't moved. When he didn't respond, she assumed he was asleep. She was thankful for that. Better he not know her secrets. Better he not get a glimpse of how fucked up she was. She went to turn off the lamp next to the couch when he surprised her.

"So you're an orphan." It wasn't a question.

Emma swallowed and clicked off the lamp.

"Yes."

Killian's lamp turned off as well, and then it was only the sound of their soft breathing in the air.

"Me too."

Pieces were starting to fall into place. "You have a brother?"

The bed squeaked. Killian had shifted. "Used to. He died six years ago. Drug overdose."

"Oh. Sorry."

"S'alright. Shit happens."

"It does."

There was another long pause. Killian's breathing regulated, and Emma figured he had really fallen asleep this time. She allowed the buzz from the rum to take over and help her fall asleep. As she was drifting off, she may have heard him whisper _I'm glad the lass lived happily ever after_ , but it may have been only a dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When looking for a song to match this chapter, I thought I would check out Metallica's "Enter Sandman." I listened, and it had the complete opposite feel - dark and twisted like a nightmare. But with references to both Snow White and Peter Pan, I couldn't help but include it anyway. This is one of my favorite chapters, and it feels like such a lovely calm in the middle of the storm of Emma and Killian's journey - a chance for Emma to let down her walls a bit. The song is a contrast to that, and perhaps reveals the more sinister intentions of our story's villain, as well as the nightmares our two heroes have when they fall asleep at night.


	20. New York Groove

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things get a little spicy here at the end, so just warning you if you prefer not to read those sorts of things you'll want to skip past it.

"Rise and shine, sleeping beauty."

Emma's sudden return to consciousness was helped along by the sound of Killian's husky voice and the jostle of a the bus hitting a pothole. It was a confusing way to wake up and it made her grumpy for several reasons. Not least among those the small number of hours she had laid on the hotel couch the night previous. Killian and Emma had been awoken at an ungodly hour and deposited on one of the buses. She didn't like falling asleep sitting up, but the lingering effects of last night's rum and the gentle rocking on the road made it hard for Emma to stay awake. She kept drifting off on Killian's shoulder.

"Mwwerp?" Emma grumbled, wiping sleep from her eyes.

"Mary Margaret came by while you were snoring and gave us our marching orders. We are to go into the city today and get our pictures taken."

Emma huffed. "I don't snore."

"Oh yes you do, princess," Killian smirked. "But don't worry, I was starting to think that you were the perfect woman. This has convinced me you have flaws. Well, besides the obvious one."

"The obvious one?" Emma raised an eyebrow.

He raised an eyebrow of his own. "Well, the fact that you haven't slept with me yet. But I'm willing to overlook that one for now, love."

Emma rolled her eyes. The constant endearments and innuendos seemed to be Killian's _thing,_ She was no longer taking him seriously. She was the employee. He was the client. They both understood that having sex would be totally unprofessional.

Even if her stomach flipped at the thought.

"So what was this about Mary Margaret and pictures?"

"Ah, yes. The Queen told me that we are to venture outside of the hotel and do things that draw the paparazzi's gaze. She expects our itinerary soon. What would you like to do?"

"Hmmm," Emma tapped her chin with a finger. "What do you normally do with a girlfriend in New York City?"

He ran his tongue across his bottom lip in a manner that gave Emma a clue to his next words before he could say them. "If I can help it, I stay in the bed the whole time." Emma elbowed his side and Killian opened his eyes in exaggerated innocence. "But apparently that is not an option? Well.."

Killian trailed off and ran a hand through his tousled hair. "When I explore the city with Bella, she wants to go to antique stores and book stores. Tina likes some of the little magic shops and she always visits the Empire State Building. Meg goes to plays and the Met. I once spent an entire day at Coney Island with a lass. Can't remember her name, but she could do this thing with a popsicle..." Killian smiled sinfully at the memory.

Emma wondered what Milah liked to do in New York. She knew enough not to ask.

* * *

 

Killian took Emma to lunch at a French bistro. There was a little outdoor dining patio with plenty of foot traffic. Excited gasps and covert iPhone photos provided the soundtrack to their meal. Emma could feel her head buzz from the attention.

"How do you stand it?"

"What's that, love?"

"Fans, paparazzi, all the attention." Emma took another sip from her espresso, enjoying the dark cup of heaven.

He shrugged. "After a while, I just tone it all out. But it is easier when I have such a lovely distraction." He leaned forward to capture a curl and wrap it around his finger. Emma smiled softly (it was for show, alright) and hoped that someone had caught this moment for Twitter.

(Another part of her, one that she didn't want to admit, hoped that this moment would be just for the two of them.)

After lunch was a game at Yankee Stadium. Neither of them were much into baseball, but Mary Margaret had wrangled some reporters to snap pictures of them having the perfect day at the ballgame. Emma and Killian rose to the occasion admirably. There were just _so many_ innuendos to be had. Killian kept whispering them in Emma's ear and Emma kept giggling at his immaturity. She felt fifteen again. But in a good way.

A quick wardrobe change at the hotel and they were off to one of those fancy, chic restaurants that had reservations that stretched back for months and never served enough food. But the wine was good, and all the photographers were forced to stay outside. Emma enjoyed the quiet calm of the expensive restaurant and the chance to step out of the limelight. She had never been one for drawing attention to herself, and today's activities were out of her element. In the soft moonlight, looking across the table at a subdued and handsome man, Emma felt that she had a chance to breath. This she could handle.

But the evening was far from over. They had to accomplish one last outing for the paparazzi. Emma and Killian met up with Graham, Anna, Robbie, and Tia at a club and danced until the early morning. Emma stopped drinking when they arrived, wanting to be on her game in a crowd. Killian had no such concerns, ordering glass after glass of rum until his eyes became permanently unfocused and a contented smile stretched across his face. Emma knew that might cause problems, but it was nice to know he felt save enough to let go.

Or maybe he was just an idiot.

Emma liked Anna. She was a sweet strawberry blonde who was constantly tripping over her own feet. Anna had no sense of rhythm, but that didn't seem to matter to the guitarist. And Tia was likable as well. She was a clever African American who promised Emma a home-cooked meal when they got to her hometown of New Orleans. The keyboardist couldn't keep his hands off of her all night.

And, for that matter, Killian couldn't keep his hands off of Emma.

She knew that it was for show, and she _knew_ it wasn't real. But she couldn't help the way that his hand on her thigh made her heart race or how his stubble against her cheek sent warmth to her belly. The music took over her higher thinking skills, and she enjoyed the thrill. He gripped her hip and pulled her against his body: her back to his front. She ground her ass back against him and felt the bulge rising up in his tight jeans.

Killian Jones was turned on alright.

Emma allowed herself one moment to give in to the rising tide of desire inside of her. She let herself moan quietly in the back of her throat. She enjoyed the feeling of his course fingers sliding down her naked thigh then back up to the hem of her dress, working his way towards her center. She closed her eyes and held her breath.

Then the song changed and her eyes snapped back open and she knew that this all needed to stop. It was too much. It was too dangerous. It was too close to something _real_. In a flash, her hand was over his, stopping his explorations. She turned around and looked into his dull eyes. "Its time to go, Jones."

"What's that, love?" he yelled in the deafening club.

"It is time. To go." Emma spoke slowly and firmly. When he remained confused, Emma looked down at his dick with significance. His eyes followed her gaze and he flushed.

Killian leaned forward to speak loudly into her ear. "Perhaps it is time for us to go."

They made their excuses to the other couples and hastily exited the club. Emma and Killian slipped into the waiting car. They were silent.

The embarrassment seemed to have sobered Killian up, as his eyes had lost the glassy look. "I am so sorry, Emma. Truly I am."

Emma turned her gaze out the window, focusing on the passing buildings. She shrugged nonchalantly. "Its fine, Killian. Don't worry about it."

They remained quiet the whole way back to the hotel. When they arrived in their room, Killian collapsed on the bed, clothes still on, and promptly fell asleep. Emma shut off the lights and tiptoed into the bathroom to freshen up.

Okay, she went into the bathroom to get herself off.

Emma hiked up her dress around her hips and ran a finger through her already-moist folds, biting her bottom lip to hold in a moan. It had been far too long since she had been this turned on, and it had been far too long since she had gotten off. Her finger quickly found her clit and her other hand was plunging one - then two fingers deep inside of her.

Images from the club flashed through her mind. She felt Killian's hands upon her body again, his fingers digging into her hip and his scruff tickling her neck. She imagined what it would be like if she were outside this bathroom, moaning and gasping on his bed, while his hands held her down and he fucked her hard. His beard scratching between her breasts, his fingers reaching between them to circle where they were joined. She imagined he would play her like he did his guitar: passionately, expertly, running his hands across all her smooth surfaces and stretching her as tight as a string. She would wrap her legs around that beautiful narrow waist and lift her hips, allowing his impressive cock in even further, hitting that place inside of her that-

Without a sound, Emma came harder than she had in months, her mouth forming a perfect 'O.' She brought herself down from the orgasm slowly, enjoying the hyper-sensitivity of her clit and the tightness of her pussy. When she was finally done, Emma was exhausted and slightly delirious. She washed her hands and splashed cold water on her flushed face.

Shutting off the bathroom light, Emma felt her way to the couch. She shimmied out of her dress, tossed aside her bra, and crawled under the blanket in only her panties.

After an orgasm like that, a girl just needed to sleep.


	21. Time After Time

Bloody sun. Who decided that it should rise this early in the morning? Didn't it have enough consideration to wait a few hours after a night of drinking?

Killian flung a forearm over his eyes and groaned. He could sleep another few hours if he didn't need to pay the water bill. With another groan, Killian sat upright and realized he was still fully dressed. He pulled off his shirt, tossed it on the ground, and stumbled to the bathroom.

It was on his way back to bed that he looked over and realized that Emma was naked.

No, not _technically_ naked. But she was certainly wearing far less than normal. The gorgeous blonde was sprawled facedown on the pullout couch, cheeks flush with sleep, an arm tucked under her head, and sheets tangled up in her legs. The long expanse of her bare back was exposed. It was calling to him, telling him long to run his hands down her back and make his way back up her spine with soft kisses. The delightful swell of her glorious bottom was covered with silky underwear. Killian was struck by a desire to slowly pull off her panties with his teeth, roll her over, and find out if her pussy tasted as delicious as he imagined...

And then Killian remembered the end of the night before and why he had fallen asleep fully clothed.

The erection that had been slowly inflating as he looked over her form rapidly disappeared. He recalled his hardness from the night before and the shame he had felt after allowing the alcohol and her intoxicating dancing to sweep him away. He flushed deeply and tiptoed back to his bed. Killian tugged off the coverlet and softly draped it over Emma.

Then Killian took a long, cold shower.

When he emerged from the bathroom, Emma was dressed in soft jeans and a well-worn Pink Floyd shirt. Killian had never been more aware of his own nakedness, and the thin hotel towel tied around his waist may as well not been there. He couldn't meet her eyes, and a hand reached up to scratch behind his ear as he stumbled over his words.

"Emma, I am so sorry about last night. It was bad form and I can promise it will never-"

She held up a hand and cut him off. "It's fine, Jones. You think that's the first time I worked a guy up on a job? It happens."

"And it will not happen again," he pressed on. "I understand the nature of our relationship and I respect you-"

"Okay, enough apologies, Jones. Time to go. Get dressed."

"Go? What is on the agenda for today, lass?"

Emma smiled and it made his heart throb strangely. "Today, we are going to explore some history."

Killian kept his distance. Instead of resting his arm on her hip or shoulder, Killian threaded his fingers with hers or just walked side-by-side, arms swinging, backs of their hands occasionally brushing. Breakfast was at a trendy cupcake bakery. The sweets were delicious, but the coffee was mediocre. However, the caffeine did its job and helped Killian to focus on the task at hand.

Pretending like he was falling madly in love.

Pretending.

"I want to go to Ellis Island," Emma whispered from across the bakery table, excitement barely concealed in a shroud or nonchalance. Ellis Island, huh?

So they jumped in a cab, hopped a ferry, and arrived at the patch of land that has promised so much hope for so many people. Emma's left foot had been jiggling with impatience since she mentioned the idea over cupcakes (maple with hazelnut frosting for him, chocolate cherry chip with buttercream for her). But as soon as they stepped inside of the building, Emma's entire demeanor changed. She was quiet and her fingers ran softly over every surface. She was reverent, and Killian half expected her to stop any moment and start praying.

No photo was too small. No story was too dull. Emma soaked it all in, pouring over every word as if there was to be a test at the end of their explorations.

Killian's own family had never come through Ellis Island. His mother met his father while studying abroad in England. Samuel Jones swept Natalie Smith off of her feet. When she graduated, the two exchanged tearful goodbyes and Natalie returned to the States. Two months later, she realized that she was pregnant. Natalie traveled back to England and married Samuel five months before Liam was born. Killian came along six years later.

But a love that had burned so bright in youth brought only heartache in middle age. Samuel and Natalie were constantly bickering, and the purple and yellow marks all over Natalie's body revealed the dark truth about their relationship. When her boys were ten and sixteen, Natalie fled the country and returned to America. She hired a lawyer and kept Samuel out of the country and out of her boys' lives.

A few years ago, Killian heard that Samuel died in a bar fight.

Natalie had finally regained her freedom, but it was not to last. Two years later, the doctors found the cancer. It was in her pancreas, and there was only so much they could do. Natalie fought with the same tenacity that had saved her sons, but when Liam was 19 and Killian was 13, she was gone.

Killian's history was in England and his future was in America. But his heritage did not pass through Ellis Island. The way that Emma was soaking in the exhibits, Killian began to wonder if hers did.

His suspicions were confirmed when Emma tapped on a screen of glass and shrieked excitedly, bouncing on the balls of her feet. But by the time Killian rushed over, her joy was gone. Her continence dimmed and disappointment was written across her face.

"What is it, love?"

"I'm looking for a Swan."

"Like a bird?"

"No, you dork." Emma swatted his arm. "Like a last name."

"And you found one?" Killian peered behind the glass, eyes scanning the minuscule type.

"No," Emma muttered sadly, already moving on to the next display. "It is just the name of a ship. _The John Swan._ "

Killian hurried to catch up with her. "But perhaps a relative of yours owned the ship! Or was a ship captain! Are there any captains in your family?"

Emma stopped in her tracks and glared at him. It was then that Killian realized from the hard line of her mouth that her disappointment had transformed into frustration. "I don't know if there are any captains in my family, _Jones_ " (she spat out his name like it was dirty) "I don't know anything about my family, that's why I am here looking for Swans."

"Love, I had no ide-" Killian reached out to comfort her, but was met with another glare.

"Give me a minute. I need to use the bathroom." And then she was flying down the hall, leaving him completely alone.

And vulnerable.

Five fans came up to him while he was waiting by the woman's restroom. Three wanted pictures, one wanted an autograph on her Ellis Island brochure, and one wanted him to record the outgoing message on her phone. He agreed to all of them, his thoughts with Emma the entire time.

When she emerged, her eyes were slightly puffy, but Killian didn't bring it up. He followed her throughout the exhibits and studied every line of text.

Nothing.

They got lunch at a deli and carried their food to the park across the street. Killian waited until she had finished her entire sandwich before he broke the silence.

"You don't know anything about your family?"

He expected her to bite his head off again, but the time must have given her a chance to cool down. Emma sighed, pursed her lips, and shook her head.

"Not a thing. I was an abandoned newborn on the side of the road."

Killian's eyebrows shot up so fast he was surprised they were still attached. "That's fucked up, love."

Emma looked at him for the first time since the freakout and smirked darkly. "It is, isn't it?"

"But the name 'Swan'?" He prompted.

"'Emma Swan' was sewn onto the baby blanket I was wrapped in. The state figured that was the name my parents wanted for me. Emma was clear enough, but the Swan was a mystery. There weren't any Swans in the area. Could have been a family name, a mother's maiden name, or just a random water fowl that my birth mother happened to like. Who the hell knows."

She fiercely pulled blades of grass out of the ground and began to tear them into tiny pieces. Killian gave her a moment for her violence before he responded.

"I think it is a lovely name." He took a chance and brushed a curl behind her ear, fingers tingling at the softness. "For a lovely person."

Emma snorted and tugged the next blade of grass out with more force. "The only people who ever call me lovely are trying to get into my pants."

"Well, I can't promise I won't do that, love," Killian quipped, earning himself another snort. "But I'm saying it now because I think you really are a lovely person. More lovely than I thought you were five minutes ago before you told me about your birth. Someone who could rise above that kind of sadness and go on to protect people, to _save_ people... Lovely doesn't even begin to cover it."

Her hands stalled in the mutilation and she slowly looked over at Killian, her eyes cautious. "What about you, Jones? What's your sad orphan story?"

Killian knew that she was changing the subject, but he didn't mind. She had shared a piece of herself; it was only fair if he share himself.

He reached for his own blade of grass. "Dad used to beat the shit out of mom, so she left. Returned to America with me and my brother. Three years later she died of cancer, left me in Liam's care. By that time, I already considered myself fatherless. So when I heard that he died a few years ago, wasn't too beaten up about it."

Emma considered his synopsis. "How old were you when she died?"

"I was thirteen, Liam was nineteen."

"That's a shitty age to be without your parents."

She knew from experience.

"At least I had Liam." He couldn't deny an advantage he had over her own situation, the glimpse of a family that he remembered. "He took care of me, worked like hell to support the two of us, taught me how to play music. We started the band together ten years ago. I owe everything to Liam."

His last statement hung in the air for several minutes. They silently watched people pass by. There must have been something about this moment that shielded them from the outside world. No one looked at them twice. No one approached them. They were just two orphans remembering their pasts.

Emma broke the quiet with a loud slurp of her soft drink. Killian chuckled and Emma laughed and then she was on her feet, pulling him up. He couldn't help but mirror the recovered mirth that spread across her face.

"Come on, Jones. Let's go do something fun. And then I propose we stay in tonight, eat pizza, and watch a shitty movie. Or maybe a good movie, I don't care."

Killian offered her his arm gallantly and she took it with all the dignified grace of royalty. "That sounds perfect, Emma."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've never been to Ellis Island, and I don't know if you could find a trace of a Swan family if you were to go, but when I looked it up on their website, I *did* see records of a ship called The John Swan that came through.


	22. Burnin' For You

Frankly, Emma was surprised it took this long.

The stalker finally sent another letter around the time Emma and Killian were having lunch in the park. But Mary Margaret didn't see it until they were floating in a paddle boat in Central Park, Emma splashing Killian so fiercely that they spent several minutes in danger of capsizing. And David didn't share the letter with Killian and Emma until they were lounging in their hotel room, pizza spread out between them, a couple of bottles of beer into _The Empire Strikes Back_.

"'Bout time," Emma muttered to herself as she grabbed the paper from David's grip. She scanned it quickly, noting her first impressions. The second perusal was slower and revealed some important information. On the third reading, phrases clicked into place that matched the other letters. This person had a speech pattern. In some ways, that was good. Random threats meant a more chaotic force. This person might be reasoned with. This person could be stopped.

"Your instincts were right," she said finally, looking up at David. "This person is in the inner circle. Or at least has a contact who is."

"How do you know, love?" Killian reached across the pizza to grab the letter.

Emma pointed to the second paragraph. "Well, they are certainly not happy to see me. I pissed 'em off. There's a comment about red panties, which only a handful of people in the audience saw. But Killian was making jokes about it two nights ago. If I'm reading that correctly, we have a traitor in our midst."

"Who do you think it is?" David's brow furrowed and he sank heavily into the nearby chair.

"No clue, but I am trying to get all the info I can. I think we've given the press more than enough pictures of the two of us. Tomorrow, when the shows start up again, I'll start focusing on getting to know everyone. People let all sorts of shit slip when they think someone is clueless. I'll see what I can get."

She set the letter on the bedside table. "In the meantime, get that letter to the police and get them to run another trace. Can't hurt."

But the trace didn't work. It was a dead end.

They didn't hear from the stalker for another two weeks.

They were in the Midwest and the show was a good one, even a great one. Emma spent the first half in the audience and the second half in the wings. She'd been mixing up her routine so that no one paying attention could predict where she would be. But Killian's eyes always seemed to find her instantly, eyes softly crinkling and tongue darting out of his mouth to wickedly swipe at his lower lip.

That's how it became with them. Alternatively sweet and flirty. No more deep heart-to-hearts. No near-brushes with genitals. They fell into this awkward dance. (But Emma's never been able to fully get into its rhythms. She just spent most of her days in a state of semi-arousal.)

When it happens, they're holding hands outside of the venue. This is typical. Fans started asking for Emma's autograph ever since Killian 'let it slip' in an interview that Emma is the new love of his life. Emma politely declined the offers and kept her eyes trained on the crowd. And she kept her right hand laced with Killian's left.

Maybe that's what saved him.

She heard it before she saw it: something hard and plastic falling to the ground in front of them. Before Emma can react, they were thrown backwards by the force of the explosion. Then everything was black and smoking.

Emma's training kicked in and she deftly rolled to her right, on top of Killian. Her body protected him when the second blast hit, further away this time. Whoever was attacking obviously didn't plan for the chaos that would ensue with the first hit, and missed the mark on the second one. Emma still felt something smoldering hit her back. She grabbed onto the lapels of Killian's leather jacket, quickly glanced up to see where the epicenter of the danger had formed, and rolled the two of them several feet away from it.

A swift look at the back of her jacket confirmed that she was not on fire.

Good.

Killian was out cold. He must have hit his head on initial impact. Emma had deceptively strong arms, but she wasn't prepared to carry Killian in this mess. She searched the crowd for an ally.

_Damn it, she needed someone she could trust._

And then he appeared, stepping out of the little yellow bug he and Mary Margaret had rented for the day. David: her knight in shining armor.

"David!" Emma hollered, still lying on top of Killian. "David!" She sat up and waved her hands in the air until he noticed them. When he did, David was by her side in a heartbeat. "We need to get him to the emergency room. _Now._ "

The ride to the hospital was the longest fifteen minutes of Emma's life. She sat in the back with Killian's head resting in her lap, smoothing back his soot-covered hair and struggling to push down the hysteria that was threatening to overwhelm her. She need to remain calm. She was in charge of Killian's life. The night wasn't over yet.

But the rapid beat of her heart and the lump in her throat betrayed something that she had been denying for weeks: Killian Jones, rock god, was no ordinary case. If something happened to him she wouldn't be able to carry on. And the frantic whispers that kept escaping her lips, crying,  _Killian, come back to me,_ had nothing to do with a desire to get an end-of-job bonus if she helped capture this scumbag stalker.

If he died, she would be broken beyond repair.

The emergency room was a swirl of lights and people and machines. Emma refused to leave Killian's side for a moment. She was fine with being labeled an obsessive girlfriend as long as Killian stayed safe. Emma followed behind the doctors firmly commanding that they hide him away.

Before stepping into the private room, Emma turned, stopping David with a hand on his chest.

"I've got this one. Go check on the rest."

"But-" David began protesting, curving his neck to look beyond Emma to check on Killian in the room.

"No buts. You hired me to do a job, now let me do it," Emma's words were a quiet hiss. "And you can do yours. I'll keep you updated."

David left. Emma entered the room.

Killian woke up twenty minutes later, surrounded by hospital personnel, Emma's right hand firmly holding on to his left. There was a guard outside the door and she was getting updates from David every five minutes.

A few fans got singed. Another one got a large piece of shrapnel in her leg. But the worst of it was Graham. He was seriously burned. He would need months of physical therapy. Graham was off the tour.

The doctors declared that Killian would be fine. They would keep him in the hospital overnight for observation, but other than a few bumps and bruises, there was nothing wrong with him. The staff quickly cleared out, leaving Emma and Killian alone.

"You saved me, lass," Killian whispered, his voice raspy.

Emma could no longer stop the tears that had been threatening to spill out for the past hour and a half. She allowed herself to cry and the tears poured down her cheeks, creating clean trails on her still soot-covered face. Killian reached up with a trembling hand and wiped away her tears with his knuckle. Emma smiled and looked away. She had had her cry. Now it was time to compose herself.

"What's wrong, love?" Killian's voice was thick with concern and she felt her heart squeeze.

She looked back and smiled again. "I'm just glad you're safe."

Killian grunted. "Of course I am, Swan. With you as my protector, I never had any doubts." He chuckled darkly, "I never imagined that I would be knocked unconscious by a bomb, but I always knew that you would save me." His tone was playful again, and two fingers tapped his lips. "Perhaps gratitude is in order. I could talk to David about increasing your check-"

And then, before Emma realized what what she had done, her lips were pressed against his and she was kissing him. She finally let loose all of her emotions from the night and from the past week as her heart opened and expanded. Killian's lips were still at first, but when her tongue gently swiped his lower lip, he let out a gentle breath and gave in. He was kissing back and it was fierce and passionate and it was everything Emma had ever wanted. One of her hands drifted into his thick black hair, seeking to cup his head and draw him even closer. His own hand tangled into her blonde locks and Emma had never felt so alive.

It was kissing as Emma had never known it could be.

But she could only shut out the outside world for so long. From far away, she heard a doctor being paged over the PA system. The sound brought her back to the real world, and Emma pulled away and looked down at Killian Jones: rock god.

He was utterly wrecked.

What little color he had regained since the explosions was gone again. His face was deathly white, his lips bright-red and swollen. Killian's tongue darted out right at that moment to lick them, and Emma shivered, remembering the feeling of that tongue against her own. But it was Killian's eyes that drew her back. His normally bright-blue eyes had grown stormy and hooded with passion. She knew without a doubt that this is how Killian Jones would look after a thorough fucking.

Killian examined her carefully. "That was-"

Emma steeled her resolve and broke out of his grasp. She took two steps back and put her walls back up. "-a one-time thing," she finished for him.

Killian blinked in surprise. He opened his mouth to respond, but someone knocked on the door. Emma flew to grab her purse, where her gun was hiding, and walked cautiously to the door. She carefully cracked it open.

"Ma'am, there are two people who want to see Mr. Jones. They say they got the room number from a David Nolan." The security officer spoke in a formal, clipped tone. He was professional, and Emma was glad for the familiar ground to stand on.

She looked over his shoulder to see Tina and Bella clutching one another behind him, terrified. "These two are good, send them in."

The blonde and the brunette flew into the room, offering Emma quick hugs, but ultimately seeking out Killian and throwing themselves on opposite sides of his prostrate form.

Emma watched from across the room as the two women began smoothing down Killian's hair, tucking blankets around him, and quizzing him on what had happened. This wasn't her world. Her role was not to love or comfort. Her role was to protect with cold, calculating decisions. Feelings would only get in the way of that.

She couldn't afford to give in again.

Emma slipped out of the room to stand watch outside. Tina and Bella would take care of Killian's emotional needs. She would scout out the hospital and talk to the police. Emma quickly glanced at the guard outside of Killian's door.

She also needed to bring in some backup. Someone she could trust. The game with this stalker was becoming deadly, and she needed more help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So our slow-burn couple finally gets fired up (quite literally). I know y'all have been waiting for this for *ages* so hope it was worth it. Things start to pick up a little more from this point on, so hold on to your seats!


	23. Stuck in the Middle with You

"A kiss? That's pretty tame fare for you, Killy."

Bella and Killian sat across from one another in Killian's spacious music room. Gleaming guitars hung on the wall next to platinum records and pictures of the band. In the most precious photo, Killian's arm is slung around another man, identical grins across their faces, holding a record contract for The Jewel with Regal Records. In the corner was a case filled with awards, all bearing the name of Killian Jones.

But at that moment, Killian was focusing on the task at hand: songwriting. Papers littered the room, along with books, pens, and several tubes of lipstick.

"It is not about the kiss, love. It is about what the kiss _exposed_." Killian sighed and pulled himself onto the couch. From the new position, he could look down at Bella, sitting primly on the floor, with another look of exasperation.

"What do you mean, 'what the kiss exposed'?" Bella sighed, pulling a pencil from behind her ear and tapping at the paper in her hand.

"I'm not just talking about a kiss here, I'm talking about the way that a kiss offers a window into the future - and into the past." Killian ran a hand through his hair.

"Keep talking. Explain it to me." Bella fumbled with a notepad and found a fresh page. "Don't sensor yourself, just whatever is on your mind."

Killian swiped an errant tube of lipstick off of the ground, twisted off the cap, and took in the aroma. It was delightfully feminine. "It is what happens when you are lost, drifting, hopeless, torn apart by love and screwed over by love and wrecked by love. And everything is just a haze. Every day is the same, one right after another. Nothing really matters. Not really."

And although the lipstick was still in his hand, he smelled something else, something that wasn't quite there. "But then.. then you meet someone who makes you care again. Who makes you want to be a person again. A _real_ person. The kind of person you were before all the heartache and the sleepless nights and the booze and the shite. And that person makes you wake up. And then- then that person kisses you and you feel like maybe - _just maybe_ you can move on and be the kind of person that you have always wanted to be. And that you can be that kind of person for her. Be that kind of person that is worth being with, worth saving."

He felt utterly drained. The weight of emotion was pressing upon his heart like a vice and he couldn't imagine carrying on much longer. Killian ventured a look at Bella. She was scribbling furiously on the notepad, eyes wide and eyebrows high.

"That girl's really done something to you."

"Pardon?" Killian attempted to play it cool.

"Emma. She's - she's good for you, Killy. She's making you want to be good again. The way that I know you can be." Bella put down the pad and pencil and scooted across the floor until her head was resting in Killian's lap. "I remember when we first met, right after Milah." Killian winced at the, but Bella pushed through. "And you were a wreck. I don't know if you were ever sober for that entire first year."

"Why did you come with me, love? Why did you take up with a drunk and depressed musician?" Killian played with her long brown tresses, enjoying the softness between his fingers.

Bella's hand found his and offered a reassuring squeeze. "I did it because I knew that you were hurting. I knew that you were capable of much more. That there was good in you. We've all seen it. You're a poet, Killian, and your words touch people." She gestured to the cabinet in the corner. "The whole world knows it. You just need to accept it in yourself."

Killian closed his eyes, letting her words sooth his wounds like a balm.

"I'm glad Emma is here. I'm glad that you've fallen in love again."

As if summoned, Emma appeared at the door, holding a tray with three steaming mugs. "How's the songwriting going?" She took in the scene before her and halted. "Oh, I'm sorry, I'll just-" Her face betrayed surprise and a hint of panic.

But Bella only lifted her head from Killian's lap and rolled her eyes. She caught the implications of Emma's reaction as well. "Don't be ridiculous, Emma. We're just brainstorming. Killy and I haven't been together in years." She gracefully stood and accepted the cup Emma offered, sitting herself down across the room. Emma tentatively sat in the space she had vacated, perched awkwardly on the edge of the couch. It was strange how her presence could make him feel so different than Bella's. Bella was an old friend, a kind soul who had seen Killian at his worst. For over a year she coaxed him back to the land of the living. Just being in the same room as the brunette typically made his shoulders relax and smiles easier.

But Emma was another story. She made his heart race and his spine straighten and he was hyper-aware of every inch of his skin. And every inch of hers. Sitting so close to him, all he wanted to do was reach out and caress her. He was afraid that if he did, his skin would catch on fire and he would be utterly consumed. She was danger and safety wrapped up in leather. She could make him hard with a look and kill an assailant without a second thought. She was his guardian angel and his damnation. How had the gods created such a woman?

Unaware of his inner turmoil, Emma handed Killian his drink.

"It's cocoa," she said, answering his questioning look.

"Anything stronger, love?" he asked, blowing on the steaming surface.

"Just drink," she teased. Killian took a sip and felt the smooth taste of cinnamon hit the back of his throat. "Fireball whiskey," she smiled. Killian groaned softly and drank some more.

The trio sipped their drinks in silence. Killian had grown used to silence in the last month, since David and Mary Margaret cancelled the tour and sent Killian back to his seaside home outside of LA "for his own protection." Emma insisted that he was much safer if he stayed close to home. She brought in an old friend, a short and irritable man named Leroy, to run security at his house. Leroy installed a state-of-the-art security system and a team of trusted employees. Emma commanded them all, striding about his house like a queen in a castle. She called the shots and everyone, including Leroy and Killian, fell in line.

Emma was sleeping in a private bedroom now, one close to the front door so she could better hear any disturbances, she said. Killian missed her comforting presence at night, but was glad to have regained a bit of privacy, especially when he woke up in the morning dreaming of blonde curls and lace panties. It was days like today, when Killian made a public appearance, or someone came over to his home, that he and Emma put on the charade of love. In private, they were planets orbiting around danger and passing one another sporadically. He missed the tour and familiar routine they had fallen into. His home didn't feel like his own anymore.

She never mentioned the kiss.

"Is that my lipstick?" Emma's sudden question shook Killian out of his daydreaming.

"I'm sorry, what was that, love?"

"My lipstick - and another one!" Emma stood and walked around the room, picking up the tubes.

"He's writing a song about a kiss," Bella interjected. Killian's face started to grow hot.

Emma paused. "A kiss?"

Bella, oblivious, continued chattering excitedly. "Yes, a kiss that changes someone's life forever! A kiss that exposes how someone who has been caught up in heartbreak and pain now sees a future of goodness and happiness." Bella beamed at the pair.

Emma's mouth hung wide open and her eyes were the size of saucers. "That- that- that sounds like some kiss."

"It sure is, lass."

At his words, Emma turned to look at him. His eyes told her everything he hadn't been able to say over the past month: the pounding of his heart when he awoke to her hand in his as he lay in a hospital bed. That she had nearly killed him with that kiss. That she had broken him seconds later by leaving and not returning until the next morning. That kiss had become something he measured his life by. Everything that happened before her, before the kiss, meant nothing. But all he could see in her eyes was panic. She swallowed and looked away. "I'll just leave you guys to it." Then Emma hurried out of the room without a second glance.

Bella watched the whole exchange with confusion and amusement. Then she sighed and picked up the notebook again.

"You two are so weird."


	24. Its Now or Never

For the record, Emma was against it from the start.

But Killian and David and Mary Margaret insisted, and even Leroy told her not to worry so much. So she caved. She said yes to the Grammys.

Jolly Roger was up for 4 awards: Album of the Year, Best Rock Performance by a Duo or a Group with Vocals, Best Rock Song, and Best Rock Album. Apparently you couldn't just _not_ go to the Grammys. Graham was finally well enough to attend and the the band would be performing. Killian had even been asked to present.

"If I say no, love, I don't imagine I will be nominated again," he told her cheekily. Emma seriously doubted that, but she still gave in. Her job was to protect Killian, not to keep him from living his life.

She almost said no two nights before the Grammys, when another letter arrived. This marked the fifth since the attack, and it was just as demented as the ones that proceeded it. The stalker was gloating, and that pissed Emma off. When preparing for the awards show, she took extra care with her hair and makeup. She told herself it was to piss off the stalker. On behalf of Graham and the burn marks across his body.

This had nothing to do with a lead singer/songwriter.

Emma felt a bit like a girl on prom night. (Not that she had gone to prom.) After watching a few YouTube tutorials she had figured out a way to twist up her hair. Tina loaned her a new sparkly eyeshadow in a subtle shade of green. And somehow, impossibly, she was wearing that white dress Jones had thrown in her suitcase. The floor-length, floaty number that she had bought on a whim. The dress had never seen the light of day and now it was going to the Grammys.

This whole thing seemed so surreal.

Emma waited impatiently by the door for Killain to descend from his second-level bedroom. What does a rock star wear to an awards show? And why was he taking so long?

Then Killian appeared at the top of the stairs and Emma heard "Kiss Me" by Sixpence None The Richer play faintly in the back of her mind. He wore a chocolate-colored tuxedo that hugged his lean body in all the right places. His usually-messy hair was slicked back, his kohl-rimmed eyes glowed, and he had that shit-eating grin on his face, the one that said he _knew_ he looked damn sexy.

Emma swallowed hard.

"Swan! The surname certainly fits tonight, love!" Killian practically skipped down the stairs and pecked Emma's cheek with a kiss. "Are you ready to go?"

"I've been waiting for ten minutes, Jones. Let's get this show on the road."

This was Emma's first red carpet, and she wasn't sure that she was prepared. Mary Margaret had drilled her on the proper etiquette and that she would need to step aside so Killian could take photos solo and with the band. Bella told her to pretend she was someone else for the night. Tina wished her luck. Ruby just warned her to make sure she didn't accidentally flash a nipple.

Emma didn't find the red carpet as scary as she had imagined, but it was still much more chaotic than she would have liked. She scanned the crowd for trouble and took care to widen her eyes in awe. Emma had a part to play, and she was going to make it work.

"Come on love, a picture for the paps, eh?" Killian gestured for her to come towards him. She reluctantly agreed, slipping her arm around Killian's waist. His hand settled on her shoulder and, to her surprise, he leaned forward to plant another kiss on her temple. He was certainly affectionate tonight.

During the show, Killian kept alternating between the audience and backstage, due to his performance and need to present an award. Emma followed him, sticking close to his side. She was without her gun tonight, and it was killing her. She had to settle for keys, a nail file, a pocketknife, and pepper spray, all crammed in her tiny gold clutch.

Hopefully the in-house security would make her superfluous.

"Well well well, if it isn't the dirty music pirate himself."

The snide comment came from the bloodred lips of a glamorous brunette waiting beside them in the wings. Her long hair was in a ponytail on the very top of her head, and the hundreds of tiny gems on her floor-length blue velvet gown reflected the stage lights. It took a moment for Emma to recognize the world-famous pop star.

"And if it isn't the queen bitch Regina." Killian swept into a low, mocking bow.

Regina's eyes flashed. "I may be a bitch, but I'm the bitch that is dominating you in record sales. And concert sales." Her lips curled into a smirk. "But then, I didn't have to cancel my tour. Perhaps if you had stayed with true royalty you wouldn't be dealing with annoying little twits like the Nolans."

Killian rolled his eyes and took a step closer. "I would have stayed around the Mills family longer, but frankly, auto-tuning makes me sick, love."

Her jaw clenched in anger, and for a moment Emma thought she would have to use the pepper spray on the pop princess, but Regina merely tossed her hair and turned back to look at the stage. Robby, the keyboard player, stepped forward and tentatively put a hand on the small of Regina's back. She started and looked at the scruffy musician. Emma was surprised to see a genuine smile cross her face, and the two began talking in low tones.

Emma shot Killian a 'what was that all about?' look, but he raised his eyebrows and shook his head. Clearly, now was not the time.

She got her chance almost an hour later, as the two sat back in their seat during yet another commercial break.

"Care to fill me in?"

Killian sighed and ran a tired hand across his face. "Alright, I'll give you the short version. You know how the band used to be named The Jewel?" Emma nodded. "That was the name Liam came up with. It was his band. After he died I worked my ass off to continue his legacy. Our first contract was with Regal Records, run by Regina's mother Cora Mills. Three years ago, I found out she was taking more than her fair cut and making it so that we had no claim to our songs or to the band name itself."

The lights started to shift, and Killian spoke faster, his low voice gaining speed. "So we left the record company and changed our name to Jolly Roger. Try to avoid the Mills at all costs, but it gets impossible at events like this." His gaze turned back to the stage, eyes focused on the resuming show.

"What was with Regina and Robby?"

Killian's profile was cast in shadow, but Emma could still see his eyebrow rise. "You noticed that too, huh? Back then, Regina and Robby used to fuck like rabbits. When we broke away, her mum put a stop to that real quick. I think he's still sweet on her, but they're both afraid of Cora."

"What's so scary about Cora?" Emma whispered.

"Believe me, love. If you met her, you'd know."

Jolly Roger swept the rock category, but didn't pick up Best Album. Emma could tell Killian was disappointed, but he shrugged it off. "It will happen next year, lass. Bella and I have several songs so far and they are the best we've ever written. I can feel it in my bones." He offered her a dazzling smile and she was momentarily stunned. "Besides, the after party is really the best part."

* * *

 

Emma took deep gulps of the cool California night air when they stepped outside of the theater. It felt good to really breath again. But the relief was short-lived as Jolly Roger and all five of their dates crammed into the limo and took off for the after party.

All of the girls changed into shorter, more comfortable dresses because this was apparently something that was done. The limo quickly became the place for a mass un-dressing. Emma felt a bit like she was in the middle of an orgy. The women all shimmied out of their gowns and the men shrugged off their jackets and slid off their ties. Seated next to Killian, sudden modesty struck Emma. How on earth was she to get undressed and redressed?

"Here you go, love." Killian was now free of his jacket, bow tie, and cummerbund. The first three buttons of his white shirt were loose, revealing a long swatch of thick black chest hair. Killian held her red cocktail dress in his hands. It was bunched up so that she could easily slip it on.

Careful, so as not to disturb her updo, Killian slid the red tube over Emma's head where it hung around her neck like a scarf. He gently took hold of her shoulders and rotated her body so he could unzip her long white dress. As he slowly exposed her back, Emma felt a shiver make its way down her spine. His guitar-calloused fingers ghosted over her shoulders, sliding the straps down. With an arm across her chest, Emma slid her arms out of the straps. Her heart threatened to pound right out of her chest; Emma had no idea that changing her clothes could be this erotic. She couldn't help but look over her shoulder at Killian, temped to see if he was having a similar reaction.

His head was politely turned, gaze focused out the window.

Emma deftly wriggled the red dress down over her shoulders and slid her arms free. It was strapless, so she had no further problems pulling it down, lifting her hips, and letting the white dress pool at her feet.

"Do me up?" Emma whispered, her voice husky. She stole another look over her shoulder, but Killian was already focused on her cocktail dress and the two dozen buttons that went down the back. The work was intricate, and they were nearly at the afterparty by the time he was done.

And Emma was nearly dead from desire.

Her mind flashed back to the morning after their night out in New York. She had awoken to the sound of the toilet flushing and the bathroom door opening. Too late, she realized that she was lying on the sofa bed, no covers, wearing only black panties. The only thing she could do was fein sleep.

She heard his footsteps. She heard his breath catch. And she felt - yes, she really felt it - his gaze. His eyes made her back feel like it was on fire, and when he looked at her scantily-covered ass, wetness pooled between her legs. If he had touched her, there was no way she would not have succumbed. A tug of her curls. Kisses along her back. A caress of the thigh. Even a tickle between her toes. That would have been it. She would have pulled him down on top of her and given into all of the desires that had been at work in her since the moment he descended on that stage in Boston.

But he hadn't touched her.

He had covered her up and went back in the bathroom.

Killian Jones had behaved like a gentleman.

He was pulling the same routine tonight. He averted his gaze. He kept his hands in respectful zones. He protected her modesty. He didn't push. He never pushed, come to think of it. Killian was a fucking gentleman. And, quite frankly, she didn't trust it.

As he held out a hand and helped her out of the limo, Emma smiled to herself. Enough of this. Killian Jones: sex god was in there somewhere. And she knew that if she tempted and teased him, she could drag him out for the night. They could have a good fuck, clear the air, and move on.

It was time for her to seduce Killian Jones.


	25. Nothin' But a Good Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've read the previous chapter you know that this one has a possibility of getting steamy. Consider yourself warned.

There's something special about Ruby Lucas that allows her to get everything she wants.

For the eleventh anniversary of her 21st birthday, Ruby demanded a private Jolly Roger concert. An LA club was secured for the occasion, and everyone invited to attend the party. With the Madame as the birthday girl, it promised to be quite an event.

Even Emma, always overly-cautious, loosened up and only requested two additional guards on the security detail.

On the night of the party, Killian descended the stairs wearing black leather pants and a black cotton v-neck. Ruby had sent him a text earlier in the day imploring that he wore a pair of his "sexxxy leather pants." Killian chuckled and texted back a winkie face. Ruby was always like that with the lads. She was a shameless flirt, even though she had never fucked any of them. She'd said it would be unprofessional.

The sight at the bottom of the stairs knocked the wind out of him.

Emma was done up as he hadn't seen since the night they met. The glowing green eyes were rimmed in smokey blacks and grays. Her curls were flowing wild. The short black skirt and towering black heels displayed her shapely legs in all their glory.

But it was the bloody corset that brought blood to his groin.

The black corset top, all lace and satin, was the sexiest thing Killian Jones had ever seen. His head swam with questions. Where had this come from? Had she had it for long? And bloody hell, why had she not worn it before? It nipped her in at the waist, giving that glorious hourglass shape to her frame. But it was her breasts, spilling out of the top, that made him go all hard and soft at the same time. Those tits were dangerous. He didn't know if he would be able to control himself around them.

"You like?" she asked with a flirty smile, slowly turning on the spot. Killian took his time enjoying the view, lingering on her delectable derriere.

"Oh yes, Swan, I like very much," he replied, tongue darting out to lick his suddenly dry lips. "You know, we don't have to go out tonight-"

Her smile grew broader, and the little wench looked smug. "I'm afraid we do, Jones. Don't go thinking this getup is for you. Ruby bought me this top, and she texted me this morning saying if I don't finally wear it tonight she will have my head."

Killian just took a step closer, enjoying the sexual tension sizzling throughout the foyer. They hadn't flirted like this since the club in New York, and his body remembered anew how her body had felt against his. "You know, my birthday is coming up soon as well, and I would _love_ some head." He bit his lower lip and raised his eyebrows, waiting for her to back down.

To his surprise and delight, Emma took another step forward, face inches from his own. "That depends, have you been a good boy?"

His voice was now a whisper. "Oh, you know that I have, Swan."

She held his gaze for another long moment, electricity crackling between them. Then she took two steps back, eyes flicking up and down his body. "Too bad. I enjoy a good spanking." And with a wink of her own, Emma breezed past him, out the door towards the car. Killian was left breathless and hard.

What the hell was that all about?

The party was fantastic as only Ruby's parties could be. By the time Killian and Emma arrived, she was already several drinks in, held up by a handsome blonde man she introduced as "Doctor Whale, the best plastic surgeon in LA." Everyone associated with Jolly Roger was there. All five of the boys, the Nolans, almost all of the girls, the roadies, some producers. Killian even spotted Regina wrapped around Robby. Seems like the two had reconciled, Cora be damned.

Jolly Roger played a short set of their own songs starting at 10. When they took a break, Ruby begged them to play some rock classics. So the next set was pure jamming. Their favorite songs from the 70s, 80s, and 90s were played at random. Phil would play a familiar drum intro, or Graham would start plucking a well-known tune. Killian had a blast.

And every time he looked out and saw Emma, she was staring back at him. Fire burned within her eyes, setting his heart ablaze.

The third set, at midnight, had devolved into drunken karaoke. David dedicated a song to Mary Margaret. Ruby got her doctor to sing a duet. Even Regina joined in on the fun, performing a Cyndi Lauper hit with an accompanying choreographed dance.

By 1:30, the songs became slower and everyone's movements more sluggish. Killian found himself on one of the club's soft velvet couches, Emma curled up against his side. In the last two months, they had shown themselves to be an affectionate couple that didn't care for outlandish PDA. Killian was content to keep up the charade with some PG cuddles, relishing any opportunities to hold and caress her.

Tonight, Emma had other ideas.

The blonde vixen ran her hand slowly up-and-down Killian's leather-clad thigh, making the muscles involuntarily flex. She smiled in amusement at his reaction and worked her hand up higher. Killian looked around. No one was watching. Bella on the keyboard, singing a duet with Tina. David and Mary Margaret revolved slowly in the corner, lost in one another's eyes. In the opposite corner, Ruby had her hands down the plastic surgeon's pants. In a crowd of drunks, Killian and Emma weren't the subjects of anyone's attention.

And yet she was nibbling his neck.

"Emma, love, you don't need to-"

"Shhhh," she whispered, finally looking into his eyes. The fire had become an inferno and Killian was about to be burned to a crisp. "I want this." She leaned forward, lips next to his ear. "I want _all_ of this." Emma caught his earlobe between her teeth and gently tugged.

Killian went hard again. He cleared his throat, struggling to speak. "Should we go home?"

Emma nodded, a wicked eyebrow shooting up.

The ride back to his house, Emma was relentless. Her hands pressed against his thighs, caressed his chest through the thin shirt, and wrapped around his neck. With no regard for the seatbelt, Emma practically straddled him, head buried in his neck. She skillfully licked, kissed, and sucked every inch of exposed skin. But she stayed away from his face and, more importantly, his lips. Killian was going mad with need and gaining frustration at her pointed avoidance. He wanted another kiss from her. He craved one with all of his being. He had been dreaming about her kisses for week. That kiss had brought him back to life. It put together the pieces of his broken heart and made him admit something as he lay in that hospital bed, saved from certain death:

He was in love with Emma Swan.

For over a month Killian waited (rather impatiently) for her to kiss him again. Or even to acknowledge the kiss. He didn't know what had changed in that blonde head of hers, but it looked like she was going to let him show her how he felt. Finally.

When the car finally pulled into the driveway, Emma fell back into her own seat with a smirk. Her swollen red lips and tousled hair made Killian want to take her right there. With considerable restraint, he got out of the car and rushed around to help her out on her side. Emma responded by taking his offered hand with her left hand and running her right hand along the firm ridge of his hardening cock.

"Good, someone is _up_ for a little fun."

Killian moaned, but Emma had already continued past him, hips swaying as she slipped into the house. By the time Killian regained movement in his limbs, she had disappeared. He jogged to catch up, but she had already disappeared from the foyer.

"Hey! Lover boy! Up here!" Killian looked up to the second-floor balcony. Emma was leaning over the ledge, a piece of scarlet fabric dangling from her fingers. She let it drop, but it wasn't until it landed in Killian's outstretched hand that he realized what it was.

Her red lace panties.

With a roar, Killian pulled his shirt off and took the stairs two at a time. "You, love, are a bloody siren, and you are not ready for the danger you have unleashed!" Killian bellowed, scooping her lithe form into his arms. She shrieked in surprise and he carried her down the hall to his master bedroom. Like a scene from one of his fantasies, Killian threw open the door and deposited her unceremoniously on the bed. Her blonde curls haloed her face and that smile lit up the room and -

That smile didn't quite reach her eyes.

Something was off.

Killian's brow furrowed in confusion, but before he could say anything she was sitting up and tugging at the zipper to his pants. With practiced ease, Emma released his hardening cock and quickly ran her nimble fingers up and down the shaft. He let out a low moan at the glorious feeling of her hand wrapped around him. It felt good. So bloody good. Almost good enough to-

He snapped back to himself when he felt her lean forward, mouth open to receive his aching cock. Killian took two steps backward to put some distance between them. "Emma, what the hell is going on?"

She sat up further on the bed, reaching out to pull his hips back towards her. "I'm giving you a blowjob, Jones," she smirked. "I know its been a while since you've gotten one, so I'll try to be gentle."

Killian wrestled her hands away. "I know what a fucking blowjob is. I'm just wondering why you decided to give me one."

With a nasty smile, Emma stood and sauntered towards him. She pressed her body flush against his, capturing his cock once again in her soft hand. Her words were a whisper in his ear. "I decided to give you one because I know you want it. I hear you in here, every morning, stroking yourself. Don't think I can't hear your groans, your grunts. I know that you get yourself off every morning when you wake up. What I don't know is what you think about." Her pumps started to pick up speed. "Is it me? Is it me on my knees? On my back? Up against the wall? Tell me, Jones. Tell me what you fantasize about."

Killian firmly wrapped his hand around her wrist and pulled her hand off of his cock. Reluctantly, he tucked his penis back into his pants. Killian intertwined his fingers with hers, and moved his other hand to gently caress her cheek. "I fantasize about _this_ ," he breathed, and then he was kissing her again. But it was delicate and pure and full of loving devotion. He was hers. He had been since she saved his life, and perhaps even before that. Perhaps when he first kissed the back of her hand. And now he was kissing her lips and his heart throbbed with emotion because it was all too much.

"Emma," he murmured against her lips, her name a prayer, "Emma, I lo-"

She pushed him back and he fell against the chest of drawers with a bang. Emma's eyes had grown wide, a startled animal's.

"What the hell was that?" Her eyes flashed, glinting like razor-sharp sea glass.

Killian stepped forward tentatively, arm outstretched. "I just wanted to kiss you."

She flinched. "Why?"

"Emma," he stood in front of her again, softly holding her head in his hands, "I kissed you because I care for you. Because I don't fantasize about fucking you. I fantasize about making love to you."

He paused, searching her eyes, waiting for her to respond. Waiting for those walls to come back down. He would wait until the end of time if need be. She finally blinked, and her gaze softened. Those sparkling green eyes were a puddle of pain and all Killian could do was pull her in to him, letting her body relax against his form. He stroked her long blonde hair and waited for her to say something.

"I thought-" she choked out, her words barely a whisper, "I thought if we just had meaningless sex that it would all go away."

Killian held back a chuckle. Sensing the need for her to hear and understand his next words, he gently pulled her back and looked into her eyes with all the gravity inside of him. "Emma, love, I could never have meaningless sex with you. You mean far too much to me."

Her still-wide eyes revealed fear while her trembling lips held the ghost of a hopeful smile. "I do?"

Killian allowed himself the chuckle. "Gods, of course you do, lass." He sensed that now was not the time to bring up the L-word again. "Ever since the first, I've know that you were special. You brought me back to life."

Emma closed her eyes, digesting Killian's words. He knew he should not push, but one of her phrases made his heart pound and he wanted her to explain further. "Emma, darling, what do you mean you were trying to make 'it all go away'?"

Her lovely creamy skin flushed and she squeezed her eyes closed even tighter. Killian bit his tongue, waiting for her reply, hardly able to breathe. Finally, three words slipped past her perfect lips, so quiet that for a moment he thought he had imagined it.

"Love is weakness."

His heart swelled and broke all at once and all he could do was capture those lips with his once again. He kissed her because she had admitted she loved him but he kissed her because she didn't want to love him and she was afraid. Damn it, he was afraid too, but Emma Swan was his protector. His savior. With her, he felt strong enough to conquer dragons and whatever evils came along. His kisses promised her that love wasn't weakness. That, with her, he was stronger than ever before.

His kiss was a question, and, when he pulled away, her slowly-opening eyes were the answer. Killian smiled in relief and kissed her again, joy pounding through his veins. She returned the kiss with equal affection, and he finally felt her lips curve into a smile against his own. Somehow, his heart grew even more full, and he grinned into the kiss. When she pulled away, they were both breathless and flushed.

"Emma," he picked up a lock of her hair and twirled it between his fingers, "when you saved me that night-"

"That's when I knew," she finished for him. "That's when I knew you were more than just a client. If you hadn't woken up, it would have been more than just a botched job."

"But you did save me. You went above and beyond and you kept me alive." His finger found the dimple in her chin and he couldn't stop himself from grinning again. "Love isn't weakness. Love is strength."

And then she was kissing him again and there was no need for flowery words or speeches.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Psych! Shame on you for only wanting sexy times (just kidding, you do you and enjoy your fics however you like). You ended up getting some feels here instead. I promise promise promise that this relationship will be consummated. I wouldn't abandon y'all like that ;-)


	26. Sunshine of Your Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright ladies and gentlemen, I've teased enough. I promise you *this* is the chapter where these two get it on. Prepare for sexytimes.

They didn't have sex that night.

But it wasn't because Emma didn't want to. It wasn't because Killian didn't want to either, if his erection, still visible through his tight trousers, was any indication. But when her hands started their journey south again, Killian stopped her with a groan.

"Not tonight, love."

"Why," she teased, "do you have a headache?"

Killian chuckled and sat down on the bed, indicating she should join him. "No, because we aren't ready for this. Not tonight." Emma's face must have betrayed her momentary panic, as Killian quickly grabbed hold of her hand. "This has been an emotional and confusing evening, lass. I don't care for this to be the setting for our first time. I told you, I don't want to fuck, I want to make love." He reached up to caress her face again, and for the first time, a man's feelings were an aphrodisiac.

"Besides," and his face grew solemn and his hand left her face to scratch the nape of his neck awkwardly, "I would like to get tested."

Understanding flooded Emma's brain, followed by flattery, then worry. "Tested? When's the last time-"

"Ruby makes everyone get tested bi-annually, no exceptions. And she's always shoving condoms in our bags. My last test was six months ago and everything was fine. I just wanted to check again and make sure that I wasn't dangerous."

Emma nodded. She had never talked this seriously about protection before. It felt oddly responsible. "Its been a little while for me too." She squeezed his hand, offering reassurance. "I guess I'm due for a checkup."

Killian's smile turned wicked again, and he moaned in desperation. "As much as I would like to play doctor and nurse, love, perhaps we should say our goodnights for now."

Twenty minutes later, after some significant groping, Emma finally left Killian's room.

Things were different now. Killian and Emma went out more often. They'd go to the movies, eat dinner, grab coffee. And now the hand-holding wasn't for show. They indulged in kisses that were captured by the jubilant paparazzi. They spent many nights with the Jolly Roger crowd, Emma still desperate to pick up any clues on who the stalker could be.

Two days after Ruby's party, Emma gathered her courage and visited David in his office to tell him about the changed status.

"Can't say I'm surprised," he responded with a chuckle. "I guess it was a little dangerous asking you to pretend like that. Its natural you would fall for one another."

"If you want to terminate my employment, I completely understand-"

"What?" David cut her off. "No, of course not! We hired you to protect Killian. If you care about one another, looks like you will be working even harder to do so."

Emma pressed. "But with this new development, there are some ethical grey areas."

"There are no grey areas," David remained firm. "You protect him until we get rid of this threat on his life. As long as you remain vigilant-"

Emma nodded. "Of course I will."

"-then I see no problem. Now let's solve this mystery so we can step firmly out of any perceived 'grey areas.'" Emma sensed that she was being dismissed. David and his wife were similar like that. She started to make her way out of the office when he spoke again.

"Oh, and Emma?" She paused. David smiled, and it was another one of his dazzling, charming grins. "Welcome to the family."

* * *

 

It was four days after that when Emma and Killian had sex.

Picking up the mail that afternoon, Emma found two identical envelopes from the clinic. A quick tear and scan later, and she had a clean bill of health. Killian was lounging on the back porch, guitar in his lap, gently strumming to the beat of the ocean in his backyard. She playfully tossed the envelope on his lap. Another tear, another scan, and he was grinning as well.

"Tonight, love, we have a romantic date, and then I finally let you in my pants." Emma just rolled her eyes, tempted to tell him that she had already touched his penis, so its not like this would be that big of a deal.

Except it totally was.

Killian was a romantic through-and-through. He hid it well, but their dinner at an ocean-side tavern and romantic walk on the beach confirmed what she had been suspecting since he kissed her hand in a Boston dressing room: Killian Jones was a total softie. He opened every door, pulled out every chair, and kept a firm hold of one or both of her hands throughout the entire evening. Before long, they were standing by the front door.

"So," Killian said with a smile, toying with his keys, "I suppose this is goodnight."

"I suppose it is," Emma played along. "Thank you for an enjoyable evening."

Killian shyly leaned forward and kissed her softly. Impatient, Emma deepened the kiss and wrapped her arms around his waist to draw him closer. And then he was kissing her back just as fiercely. But there was a spark to the kiss that hadn't been there the last week, fueled by their confessions of love. Emma groaned and Killian moaned and it took far too much work to open the door and fumble their way up the stairs.

Emma's hands worked on Killian's buttons as they made their way clumsily down the second floor hallway. He tugged on her dress, pulling down the zipper and sliding it off of her body. The shirt and the dress fell on the floor next to one another, his pants quickly joining.

Then Killian scooped her up again and carried her to the bedroom. But this time there would be no people waiting to interrupt them. And there would be no embarrassing admissions of fear. It would be just the two of them, finally acting on the playfulness and passion that had defined their relationship from the start. Emma's heart threatened to pound straight out of her chest. She had never done this before. She had never had sex with someone she truly cared about.

Killian gently placed her on the bed, hovering over her and kissing her neck while his fingers dug into her hair. Emma hummed in contentment. "Alright there, love?" he whispered, tongue tracing against her collarbone. Emma could only hum again, and Killian responded with a small chuckle, his warm air blowing between her breasts. Then his tongue was there too, in the generous cleavage that her miracle bra afforded. She felt her nipples harden and liquid rush between her thighs.

She couldn't help but arch into him, silently begging for him to continue his oral explorations. He took the opportunity to reach under her shoulder blades and expertly unhook her bra. Killian deftly slid it off, leaving her bare beneath his gaze. She waited, unable to breathe, for him to continue. When he didn't, she finally opened her eyes.

He was staring back at her, eyes burning hot with blue flames that consumed her soul. It was too much. She closed her eyes again and arched her back, hoping that he would understand. That he would relieve some of this pressure that was building up inside of her. He complied with a flick of his tongue across her right nipple. She moaned, and he flicked again. And then he was coating the sensitive bud with the flat of his tongue and she couldn't keep her eyes closed any more.

Emma opened them and stared at the erotic image of Killian teasing and nibbling her. She groaned again and his eyes shot up. He grinned with the cocky bravado she loved, and moved his mouth to her other nipple. Somehow, impossibly, this one felt even better. She had to close her eyes again and soak in the pleasure that Killian was giving her. She had never been touched like this. Never taken her time like this. Killian's hand worked its way down her stomach, avoided her most intimate of areas, and took firm hold of her inner thigh. She couldn't stop the shudder that went through her at the thought of what he would do next.

Killian picked up on her heightened excitement and returned to her right nipple, nibbling, using his free hand to squeeze her right breast. And then his other hand moved her panties aside and swept along her moist crevice. Emma involuntarily bucked against his hand, desperately wanting him to continue touching her there. Desperately wanting friction and relief. He complied by finding her hardened nub with this thumb. He pressed against it with soft, languid circles and drove Emma crazy with need.

His finger teased at her entrance and he groaned around her breast. "Emma, love, you are soaking."

Emma could only press against his digit, rolling her hips in desperation. "Killian," she breathed. "Oh, Kill-" but he sank one finger deep inside of her and she was no longer capable of speech.

"Gods, lass, you are so fucking tight and dripping wet," Killian breathed against her chest. He pulled the finger out and then inserted two. Emma spread her legs apart, welcoming his hand. He fucked her slowly with his fingers, making her clench and moan. His thumb on her clit and digits inside of her were sweeping her away. It wasn't until she felt his hot breath against her pussy that she realized he had moved his body to the end of the bed.

Emma's eyes flew open. He pulled his damp fingers out of her, slid off her underwear, and leaned forward, clearly prepared to pleasure her with his tongue. She stiffened. "Wait."

He paused, confused. "What's wrong, love?"

Her mouth stumbled over the words. "You don't have to- I understand- I mean-"

He merely leaned his head forward and took a long lick across her mound, ending with a playful flick of her clit. Emma let out a cry. He looked at her again with a depraved smile. "And you should understand, Emma" -another lick- "that I have been wanting to do this" -lick- "ever since you first handed me those sinful red panties." -lick-

Emma leaned back and let him continue working his magic. He murmured words she couldn't decipher: things like "vanilla", "so sweet", and "like the bloody ocean, you are." Soon he had three fingers inside of her, stretching her, curling against her walls. His tongue was playing against her clit and it was ecstasy as Emma had never known. Before long, her fingers were fisted in his hair, pulling him closer, hips bucking into his face, inhuman groans ripping from her body.

He rode her hard through the orgasm, prolonging her pleasure. And his fingers and tongue brought her down gently, leaving her sated yet still craving more. When her gasps had subsided, Killian crawled back up the bed, face glistening with her juices. He grinned at her cockily and slid off his boxer briefs, using the soft fabric to wipe off his soaked face.

"You're quite vocal love," he laughed before capturing her lips with his own. His tongue demanded entrance, and Emma gave it to him, tasting herself. It was strange, but not unpleasant, and sent a shiver down her spine at what he had just done.

She hated to stroke his ego, but she couldn't help it. "Wow," she sighed when he pulled away. "That was unexpected."

"Unexpected?" His eyebrow quirked.

Her fingers found their way into the course forest of his chest hair. "I've never come like that before. Not with someone going down on me."

"Lass, you've been missing out." He smacked his lips. "As have I. Next time, you're sitting on my face so all of your sweet juice can run right down my throat."

"Next time?" she teased with an eyebrow of her own. He opened his mouth in surprise, and she took the opportunity to grab a firm hold of his shoulders and roll them over, leaving her straddling him. "What makes you so sure there will be a next time?" Emma rubbed her core against his cock, coating it in her juices.

Killian groaned. "Well, your soaking wet pussy for one," he responded, still able to be smug. "And after I made you come like that, I know you will be back for more. Begging, even."

"Begging?" Emma lifted her hips, leaving his dick without any of the friction he so craved. "The only one doing any begging is going to be you, _love_ ," she mocked with a horrible impersonation of his accent.

He only smiled, rubbing his hands along her hips. "I'd happily beg for your cunt, Emma. I can't wait to feel you wrapped around me. Please, love, put an end to my torture. Let me inside. Inside of your body, inside of your heart." His words rang so sincere that her heart hurt, and it was almost too much again. She lined herself up against his hardness and closed her eyes. His hands stilled against her hips and she had to open her eyes again. "Look at me, Emma. Look at me when we become one."

She looked and saw the fire that was in him and it burned within her and between them and when she slowly slid down over his cock, the fire consumed the both of them. They groaned when he hit bottom, and groaned again when she slid all the way up. The two lovers quickly found their rhythm. She jerked and he bucked and it was amazing. He was so big, but she had never been more wet. It felt delicious and wonderful and her heart ached from the kind of joy she had never before experienced.

His thumb found her clit again and she started moving faster. She looked down into his face and the tension in his jaw and the glassy look in his eyes betrayed him. He was close to the edge. But his finger was firm against her nub, and she knew that he wanted her to join him. She moaned again and started playing with her breast. His mouth fell open at the sight.

"That's a good girl, touch yourself." He was letting out curses and praises, his hips moving ever faster. "Oh Emma, you are so beautiful, love. A bloody princess..."

She was on the edge, about to fall, but it was still too much. She cared too much, and she was so afraid. Her panic threatened to overcome her, but his thumb increased in speed. "Its alright, Emma. Its alright. Come for me. Just let go. Let go and give in to what you feel."

It was all she needed. The tension that had been building inside of her burst open, and pleasure coursed through her body. It started at her core, spreading to her chest and vibrating out through her limbs. She rode his cock even faster, enjoying the way that it was stretching her and filling her. When she was just coming down from her high, Killian groaned and thrust up into her sharply. She felt the warmth of his release deep inside of her. His hand clutched her hip, keeping her sheathed around him. And then he sighed, wrapped his arm around the small of her back, and the two collapsed onto the bed.

Emma slowly slid off of Killian, landing half on the bed. Her other leg stayed resting on his, and their collective moisture dripped between them on the bed. Killian reached over and tugged the covers over them.

"Love, if I didn't know better, I would say you are trying to kill me," he grunted. He flicked off the light and closed his eyes.

"Fuck no," she responded, sleep taking over. "I want to do that again."

And they did. Multiple times.


	27. I Want You to Want Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *looks at calender* Damn, it has been over a month since I updated this fic! I promise that in a few chapters Emma and Killian's story will be resolved. Thanks for waiting patiently, loves!

In the hour-long crime dramas, the mystery was always solved in the last ten minutes by an obvious clue that made the detective realize, with sudden clarity, exactly who committed the crime and in which way.

It wasn't like that for Emma.

It took several clues for her to realize who had been terrorizing Killian. The second clue came two weeks to the day after she and Killian had consummated their relationship (she didn't realize the first clue _was_ the first clue until after the fourth clue. And she didn't figure out the second clue until after the third clue). The second clue started with a letter that was not at all received like the ones from the clinic.

"That greedy fucking bastard," Emma swore under her breath, crumbling up the letter into a ball and launching it over the porch railing. She was fully prepared to forget the piece of paper and let the wind or seagulls sweep it away. Killian paused his absentminded strumming on the guitar and gave her a strange look.

"Come again, love?"

Emma growled and leaned against the porch rail, turning her back to the dazzling sunset that was now ruined. "David forwarded me a letter that came through with the fan mail. A letter that was sent especially to me." Rage like she hadn't known in almost ten years threatened to spill over.

"Was it the stalker? Have they decided to send you a letter too?" Killian set aside his guitar, stood, and immediately cupped her face in his calloused hands. He searched her eyes, and Emma saw the same fear in his steady gaze that she had experienced the night of the attack. It soothed her and frightened her all at the same time. She brushed him off with another growl and a shake of her head.

"I wish. The stalker would be welcome compared that piece of trash." She motioned with her head to the discarded letter, and Killian followed her gaze. He raised his eyebrows and Emma nodded, giving him permission to pick it up again and read it.

"Hmmm." Killian made a comical show of stroking his chin as he read the letter. When he had finished, he looked at her again with a puzzled expression. "I don't get it. What is so offensive?"

Emma snatched the crumpled paper out of his hands and passionately jabbed at it. "You wouldn't get it if you weren't a lowlife son of a bitch like Neal. But I can read between the lines. He thinks that I'm running a scam with you, and he wants in on the action. He's asking if there is anything he can do to help me out. He's willing to do whatever it takes, as long as he gets a cut." She balled up the letter once more and tossed it over her shoulder. With a sigh of disgust, she stalked into the house and away from the letter.

Killian was hot on her heels. "Who is Neal?"

She stopped in her tracks so suddenly that Killian ran into her, and wrapped his arms around her to keep them both from falling. Emma felt that familiar rush in her stomach when Killian's body came close to hers, and for one moment she imagined touching him and kissing him and getting him to forget that a letter had even arrived.

But his curious expression when she turned to face him convinced her that Killian wasn't about to let this go. Emma took a deep breath. "Neal is my Milah." Killian's eyebrows went up, but he made no other response.

Emma waited.

He wanted more. Damn.

Emma sighed and grabbed hold of Killian's forearm, dragging him to the squishy loveseat in the living room. They sank into the plush chair, and Emma automatically lifted her legs to rest on Killian's lap. He wrapped his arms around them, and once again Emma hoped he would just let it all go. But he continued to look at her with expectation, and Emma knew that this man would wait forever to get what he wanted.

"Neal and I met when I was fifteen," Emma winced, preparing to open old wounds. "We were placed with the same foster family, and they were total shit. They just took in kids for the money, and didn't pay any attention to us. So Neal and I were always running around causing trouble and stealing stuff. We'd steal food because we were hungry and steal clothes because we wanted to look cool."

Emma pinched the bridge of her nose, remembering what an idiot she had been. "He was two years older, and I thought he was the cutest and smartest guy I had ever met. He taught me how to pickpocket and where to stab someone in a fight. He was my first kiss and- and my first love."

Killian interjected. "So you two-?"

She shook her head, "No, never that. He wanted to but I always said no. Now I'm glad that I did." Emma struggled to proceed, but Killian's hands clasped her trembling palm, and it gave her strength, anchored by his touch.

"When he turned eighteen, he was kicked out of the house because he was no longer a minor. But we kept spending time together and working bigger and bigger scams. Finally, he got in over his head. He stole some watches that he wasn't able to sell and he was being followed. So he gave me one of the watches as a gift and planted the rest of them in my locker. Then he tipped off the cops that it was me."

Killian's grip on her hand tightened, and when Emma looked up she saw rage burning behind his blue eyes. His jaw clenched and Emma imagined that if Neal were there right at that moment, Killian would have severely hurt him.

"So I got placed in juvie. They found all the other stuff I had swiped, including knives. I was stuck there until I turned eighteen."

"Did the bastard ever apologize?" Killian growled.

"He came to visit me once," Emma whispered, the anger from earlier replaced by exhaustion. "It was right after they put me in. He came for about five minutes. He said he was sorry, but it was half-assed. He said that he would have been tried as an adult, but as a minor I would get it wiped from my record in a couple of years." Emma took a deep breath and felt all the fight leave her limbs. "I haven't heard from him since."

There was a long pause, finally broken when Killian softly ran his palm up and down her calves. "Until today."

"Until today," she echoed.

"So what are you going to do?"

Emma tipped her head back and stared at the ceiling. "I was thinking about pretending this never happened."

"Sounds fine to me," Killian responded.

And Emma didn't do anything. Not until the third clue.

* * *

The third clue came another week and half later, when Emma was leaving a meeting with one of her contacts that was searching the blogs and databases to suss out the stalker. They had gotten coffee in a neighborhood that Emma had never been to before, and she was completely lost trying to find her car again. Emma wandered down a street that did not look familiar in the slightest when she caught sight of a face she recognized.

"Rory!" she called congenially, waving to the blonde who was sitting outside a cafe. Rory, who was always wearing floaty pinks and blues, was dressed like she was trying to be secretive. She was sporting a long trenchcoat and oversized sunglasses. If Emma hadn't spent so much time with her in the last few months, she would not have noticed the woman at all.

Emma hurried up the sidewalk, expecting to see Lana or Phil sitting with Rory. The three of them were in a polyamorous relationship, formulating a triad. With or without Phil around, Lana and Rory were constantly cuddling and touching one another. It wasn't something Emma had had much experience with, and she couldn't imagine sharing Killian with another woman, but the Jolly Roger bus was filled with all sorts of interesting romantic configurations. If anything, the three of them had appeared happier than some of the men who were juggling two or three competing women. When Emma reached the blonde, she bent down to give her a hug. Rory stiffened uncomfortably. Emma pulled away and, peering past Rory's dark glasses, saw guilt in her eyes and the set of her mouth.

When Emma turned to look at Rory's companion, she realized why. It was neither Lana nor Phil. Rory was sitting with a redhead wearing far too much makeup. Emma grimaced and stepped back. "Oh, I'm so sorry. I had no idea that you were-" Emma looked at the redhead again, then back to Rory. "I'll just leave you to your date," Emma said, awkwardly backing away.

"I think that is for the best," the redhead replied, resting her hand on Rory's. Rory squirmed again and looked away. Emma hurried away from the two women and somehow stumbled upon her car.

It was twenty minutes later, when she was driving back to Killian's, that she realized she had seen the redhead before.

It was the girl from the concert in Boston. She was the crazed fan who had flashed Killian and taken covert pictures of Emma. It was the woman who Emma had suspected would do anything she could to get close to Killian.

She was the stalker, if Emma's instincts were steering her in the right direction.

"Leroy?" Emma shouted into her phone as soon as she was on her way back to the house. "I need Rory Sanders followed, 24/7, ASAP."

Combing through Rory's background check, Emma and Leroy found absolutely nothing. Her parents lived in a quiet Chicago suburb. No siblings or close friends. She had left her university in the middle of the semester to tour with Jolly Roger three years prior. No arrests, charges, or even suspicious activities. The tail Leroy put on her didn't find anything suspicious in the next week.

* * *

 "Dammit!" Emma grunted, collapsing onto the couch in Killian's music room.

"Still nothing, love?" Killian asked, looking up from the baby grand.

"We haven't found a single thing on Rory or the identity of that redhead. I should have just followed them last week after I ran into them."

"No." Killian's eyes flashed. "I don't want you putting yourself in danger like that."

"Killian," Emma pulled herself up from the couch to wrap her arms around his shoulders. "That's exactly what I'm supposed to be doing. Putting myself in danger to keep you safe."

He grunted and placed his hand over hers. "Well I don't like it."

She laughed. "Too bad, mister. Because that's my job. I'm supposed to keep you safe no matter the cost."

Killian turned around in her arms, his eyes twinkling inches below her own. "Well what is my job?"

"Your job," she leaned in and kissed him lightly, "is to make music."

He gripped her hips and dropped her onto his lap. His hands began to smartly tap her back and her flank, creating rhythmic slapping sounds that echoed around the room. "Like this?"

Emma laughed. "Not quite."

He nibbled on her neck, making her moan as warmth rushed between her thighs. "How about now?"

"Hmmm.." she stuttered.

"Oh, I like that sound, love," he grunted. He sucked, surely creating a sizable hickey. Her moans grew louder. Suddenly, Killian grabbed a firm hold of her hips, spinning her up into the air and around to plop on the piano. Her bare heels slammed into keys, creating a discordant sound. Killian's hands slid down her thighs, grabbing the fabric of her skirt and lifting it up above her waist. Emma lifted her hips to aid him in pulling off her panties, sighing at the cool feel of the piano top on her bare ass. With a wicked grin, Killian sat back down on the bench and began his new favorite task: making Emma Swan scream for mercy.

An hour later, after Emma had made Killian do some screaming of his own, the two lay on the couch, naked and panting.

"Good lord, Swan," Killian sighed, "You should join me in here more often. Perhaps next time I'll turn on the recording software and we can create our own musical track."

Emma glared and swatted his glistening chest. "Not gonna happen, Jones. I liked my anonymity too much to let you make something that could fall into the wrong hands."

"Oh come on, darling-" Killian began, but stopped abruptly when Emma sat up in surprise.

"That's it!" Emma climbed off of the couch and made for her discarded pants, pulling her phone out frantically. "Anonymity."

"What on earth is going on?"

She searched through the contacts, looking for someone who would be able to give her his information, since she had thrown away that damn letter. "Neal. He wasn't trying to get in on a scam, he was trying to help."

"Neal?" Emma looked up for a moment and the confusion on his face was so adorable she wanted to kiss it off of him. "What does Neal have to do with anything?"

"He said something in his letter about being an asset since he's anonymous. And since no one would be able to connect him with me. I thought it was him just being a scum bag, but now I'm wondering-" Emma took a deep breath. "Now I'm wondering if it means that he knows something that's going on. Like maybe he knows who this stalker is and he's offering to help us find it out."

"Are you sure that this is the best course of action?"

She clicked 'call' on the picture of Tamara, a girl who she and Neal had run with back in their teenage years. The two hadn't remained closed, but occasionally Tamara had been helpful on some cases back in Boston. "I'm not getting any leads working with people I trust," she replied, looking at Killian's hesitant eyes with as much courage as she could muster. "Maybe now I have to work with someone I don't trust at all."


	28. For What It's Worth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man, my breaks between chapters are getting longer and longer! Sorry to make you guys wait and I love how patient and sweet you are all being.

"Don't say anything unless I give you permission."

"But love-"

"Nothing," Emma hissed as they entered the seedy, 24-hour diner that Neal had told her to meet him at during their brief phone conversation the day before.

Killain grumbled something under his breath and wrapped his arm around Emma's waist in a move she recognized as clear possessiveness. She shook him off immediately. The last thing that needed to happen tonight was a game of tug-of-war between Killian and Neal. Killian had earned her love completely and if the idiot couldn't realize it without being a territorial jerk, maybe he didn't deserve for Emma to save his ass.

Emma spotted a familiar mop of chocolate curls sitting in the corner booth. She nodded in Neal's direction and Killian followed at once. "Okay, Swan," he whispered in her ear as they crossed the room, "I promise to keep my mouth shut at this meeting and then when we get home I can promise to use that mouth to please Mistress Emma?" She felt a shiver run down her spine. "Maybe you can wear that corset again?"

She made eye contact and nodded shortly. She didn't need Killian's damn distractions tonight. She hadn't wanted him to come in the first place but there was still a small, sixteen-year-old part of her that didn't want to face Neal alone.

Emma slid into the booth, Killian followed, and when her green eyes met with Neal's for the first time in almost ten years she had to take a deep, steadying breath.

"Neal."

"Emma." He gave her his trademark lopsided smile. "Sure you weren't followed?"

"Very sure."

His brown gaze turned to the man on her right. "And this must be the famous boyfriend."

Killian stuck out his hand. "I prefer Grammy-winning rock god, but Killian will do just fine."

Emma swatted his arm away. "Stop that. And stop using your name." She looked around. "You never know who's listening."

Neal chuckled. "You must not be used to all this cloak and dagger stuff, rock god."

Killian scowled. "I prefer honesty and transparency."

"What did I tell you about talking?" Emma glared. Killian mimed locking his lips with a key and placed his hands in his lap. She turned back to Neal. "So what have you got for us?

Neal dug a small flashdrive out of his pocket and slid it across the table. "I got audio for you."

"Of who?"

"Well, I did some asking around. I've heard rumors of someone looking for shady types to really fuck with a famous rock star. When I saw the pictures of you with _Jolly Roger_ I wondered if your new boy toy was the man in question. So I did some more asking and found out he was." Neal's fingers drummed on the table. "After your call yesterday I reached out. Found out who to get in contact with to do some dirty work. Gave them _all_ of my _best_ references and got in to talk to someone."

Emma snatched up the disc. "Who was it?"

"Some redhead. Wore a little too much makeup for me. Really busty."

"I knew it!" Emma slapped the table in glee, surprising a few patrons. Her face turned red before she whispered again, "I knew she was involved."

"So you've met her before?"

"I have," Emma nodded.

"She's not the one in charge though."

Identical furrows appeared between Emma and Killian's brows. "She's not?" he asked.

Neal shook his head. "No. I know my jobs and Red wasn't the boss. She was speaking on someone else's behalf. Someone with a hell of a lot of money. They offered me some ridiculous cash."

"What was the job?" Killian interjected again, but Emma didn't mind because the same question was on the tip of her tongue.

"Get on the security crew at Killian Jones' house."

"Done."

"No."

Both responses were simultaneous and the couple turned to one another in shock once their ears caught up with them.

"No?" Emma sputtered. "I thought we wanted this case solved."

Killian gestured to the man across the booth. "Not with my girlfriend's ex-boyfriend living with us. It would be like a bloody episode of _Three's Company._ "

Neal picked up his coffee and took a long sip. "I'm up for anything man." Emma glared at the insinuation and Neal shook his head violently. "I don't mean that, Ems. I just mean that I'm willing to help you guys figure out who's behind this. If you want me to apply for security, I'll do it. If you need me to step away I'll do that too."

Emma clapped her hand over Killian's mouth. "I'll let Leroy know you're joining the crew and you'll come in Monday morning."

"Then?"

"When you get your next order, say you need to meet the head honcho first or no dice. You want to know that your backer can really shell out the cash. And when you meet with him, I want an identification of our stalker."

Neal nodded and stuck out his hand. Emma released Killian with a warning look and placed her hand in Neal's to shake. "Pleasure working with you again, Ems."

"Believe me, the pleasure of being with Emma is all mine, mate," Killian muttered.

* * *

The next Tuesday Neal worked the night shift and Killian fucked Emma so hard she could barely see straight. He was amazing, shoving her down against his dresser, the oak rough against her tight nipples. A foot between her knees widened her stance, spreading her legs for him and she gasped as his coarse fingers caressed her dripping pussy.

"Emma," he moaned. "Always so wet for me."

She mewed because there were really no words to describe how much she wanted him. She felt his tip nudging at her entrance and she whimpered in desperation.

"Do you want it?" he growled. "Do you want me cock buried deep inside of you? Do you want me to fuck you hard? To fuck you like I own you?"

Emma groaned.

"Say it, love. I need to hear you say that you want me to fuck you." His fingers dug into the soft flesh at her hips, bruising in their command. "Tell me you want me."

"Killian," she whispered, "Oh Killian. I want you."

"You want me to _what_ darling?" One of his hands left her hip to brush against her clit and she could feel stars bursting behind her eyelids.

"I want you to fuck me, Killian. I _need_ you to fuck me."

With a satisfied hiss, he entered her in one hard trust and Emma nearly came at once. He set a breakneck speed, hips slamming into hers, fingers flicking her clit, her nipples. When he tugged on her hair and arched her back towards him, she finally felt herself diving over the edge in a rush of pleasure and pain.

She had no time to recover before Killian pulled out of her, turned her around, and dragged her towards his bed. "I want you to ride, me Swan. Fuck me and show me that mine is the only cock you want."

Killian reclined, his hardness still standing tall in the room's dimmed light. Greedily, Emma straddled him and slowly slid down the length of them, groaning in response to his breathless whisper, "Oh Emma, yes."

Despite his hands urging her to go faster, Emma set a steady pace. She relished the hard heat of him, the way he filled her up, the way he hit that perfect spot within her when she leaned back. But Killian Jones could only be deterred for so long, and it was only a few minutes before his hands found her nipples, his fingertips soaked in saliva, slickly coating her sensitive buds and making her unconsciously buck her hips quicker.

"That's it, love. Fuck me. Faster, faster."

She tucked her knees to her chest and moved her weight to her feet, allowing her to go faster and harder, just like he wanted it. She could feel an orgasm beginning to rise again, stronger even than the previous one. Killian's hand found her clit and she gasped in surprise and excitement.

"Oh Killian. Oh yes, yes, yes."

"Emma," he moaned. "Say my name. Tell me how much you love fucking me."

"Killian," she panted. And then as his fingers moved faster she squealed. "Killian," she shouted because she knew that's what he wanted. Wanted everyone in the house to hear them. "Killian! Oh yes. Killian, your cock feels so good!"

And then her praises became incoherent and his commands became rougher and shorter and then it was _all too much_ and _not nearly enough_ and all her nerve endings were on fire and who knew that it could be like this?

Afterwards, when they lay curled up beneath the blankets, both of their minds blissfully empty, Emma poked him in the middle of his chest.

"What's about?" Killian slurred sleepily.

"You know exactly what its about, mister. Were you trying to prove something with that little concert?"

A smile appeared at the corner of his mouth. "Maybe."

"Well stop it." She poked him again. "I hate territorial shit. Back off and let Neal do his job. Don't forget, he's doing this as a favor to us and he just might save your life."

She sensed more than saw the eye roll. "I know, I know. I will try to be civil. I just didn't have it in me tonight."

Emma cuddled up closer and let her eyes finally droop shut. "I had it in me plenty enough for the both of us tonight," she muttered before drifting off.


	29. Feel Like Making Love

Killian hadn't felt this comfortable in ages. The bed was so soft, the damp sheets wrapped around his weary body smelled like sweat and sex and hours of him and Emma just lying together. His thoughts were just beginning to turn dim when the bed shifted and he opened his eyes to see Emma rising and stretching.

"Where are you going, Swan?" Killian asked through the blurry daze of post-orgasmic weariness.

Emma tugged her shirt over her head and leaned across the bed to give him a peck on the lips, eyes gentle. "I'm going back to my room, lover boy."

He pulled her to him, her knees hitting the edge of the bed and toppling over, prolonging the kiss and feeling his mind grow fuzzy when her swollen lips opened and his tongue was granted access.

"No, no, no," Emma insisted, sliding off of the bed and tugging on her tight jeans. Killian was so entranced with the way her her thighs and ass jiggled as she jumped into the trousers that he almost missed her tell him, "If I have to do the walk of shame past Leroy in that little robe from your bathroom _one more time_ I will actually die of embarrassment."

Killian yawned and stretched. "You know, you could stay here, love."

She paused in the middle of picking up her heels. "What?"

"You know," Killian smiled, "put your sexy undergarments in my drawers. Leave your toothbrush in my bathroom." He sat up and grinned. "Technically, you do live with me already. Would this be any different?"

Emma eased herself back down on the bed, furrow deep in her brow. "I don't know, would it be?"

Killian reached out to caress her too-stiff back. "Everyone already knows that our dating is no longer fake." He grinned smugly. "And after last Tuesday's little show everyone is bound to know we are having Earth-shattering sex." He could practically feel her roll her eyes. Killian rested his head in his palm, peering up at Emma. "What are you worried about?"

She turned and gave him a soft look. Her fingers ran across his cheek, providing that same comfort he had felt a moment ago as they rested in the dark. When she opened her mouth, he almost knew what she was going to say.

"That's just it, I'm not worried about anything. Isn't there something wrong with that?"

"No," he whispered. "I think that means that we are doing something right."

The next day she hauled all of her things out of the bedroom next to the front door and his room was suddenly filled with the colors and fabrics and scents of _her_. Her cosmetics cluttered his sink and her dresses hung in his closet. She began stealing his shirts and they took more showers together. He got to fall asleep next to her every night and wake up to her every morning. It was a little strange to do this. He hadn't lived in the same room with a woman since Milah all those years ago. Even Meg had her own bedroom last year. On the road, he normally had the girls in his room for one night alone. And when Emma joined him on tour, she kept her things in her own corner, making herself smaller and trying to stay out of his sight.

As if that could ever work. He would always be drawn to that woman, no matter if they met on accident or for her work.

But he learned quickly that she was still very much focused on keeping him safe. She insisted on sleeping on the side of the bed closest to the door. Most women keep condoms and whips and vibrators in their top nightstand drawer - Emma kept a gun and three knives. And when he suggested that the knives can be used for some roleplay, she told him she wouldn't risk dulling her knives for something as trivial as that.

She did tie him up in bed that night, so at least he got something. 

* * *

 

As for the matter of the mysterious stalker, Killian grew impatient. He was unused to waiting for something to happen. Killian had always been a man who went out and got what he wanted. He found Emma constantly pressing her hand to his jiggling leg.

"Patience," she told him.

He could have waited for Emma Swan for 300 years. But waiting for this criminal to reveal himself would be the death of him.

It took two weeks before Neal (the bastard) let them know that he had been called to a meeting. And another four days for the thief to finagle a get-together with the head man in charge. That night, Killian and Emma waited up in the TV room, too keyed-up to go to sleep, too distracted to pay attention to the mindless drivel he had turned on.

When Neal slipped into the room, Killian unconsciously tucked Emma closer against him, as if he could protect her from the danger he knew was to come. She brushed him off and stood, facing Neal and facing whatever evil lurked in the dark places. She was so brave, his Emma.

She cut straight through the bullshit. "Who is it?"

"Cora Mills."

_Shit._

_Shit._

_Bugger ass damn bloody shit shit shit_.

"Cora Mills?" Emma turned to him, eyes wide with confusion. "Why would she-"

"Because she hates my fucking guts and she would do anything to make me regret leaving Regal Records."

Emma settled herself back next to him on the couch. "I knew she didn't like you when we ran into her at the Grammy after party." Her eyebrows rose. "She was a total bitch and I could tell she had it out for you." She paused for a moment, eyes losing focus.

"Oh my god."

"What?" Neal flopped down on another couch and gave Emma the same look of confusion Killian could feel pinching his own face.

"She said something. At the Grammy after party." She looked up, a new light in her eye. "She said that Killian was only going to hold on to his fame for so long before everything just blew away." Emma scowled at the remembrance. "She was talking about the bombing. She was making fun of the fact that she tried to kill you, that she nearly killed Graham." Emma's knuckles turned white as her fingers twisted into fists. "She was laughing at what had happened and I should have recognized it, I should have realized that it would take someone pretty sick to say something like that."

Killian pulled her hands onto his lap and slowly pried them open again, soothing out her long fingers. "Love, how could you have known?"

"This is my job, damn it." Tears sparkled in her eyes and he hated that she was so angry with herself. "I am supposed to have instincts about this type of thing."

"You do have instincts, Emma." His fingertips found the apples of her cheek. "And those instincts saved me back on the tour when she attempted to kill me."

Instead of soothing her, the reminder of the bombing only made her eyes flash and Killian was reminded once again that he never wanted to be on the receiving end of Emma Swan's wrath.

Emma's gaze turned back to Neal. "We're getting this bitch," she spit out. "And we are throwing her ass in jail."


	30. Come Sail Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, folks. The end. This has been quite the journey for my first multichapter fic and I'm so honored that so many of you have stuck with this for so long. Enjoy the final chapter and thank you for being so lovely.

Emma's always been a lone wolf type of girl. She did stuff all on her own, and it had been like that since Neal screwed her over. It always seemed to work better that way: work on your own and things don't fall apart. And if they did, then you didn't have anyone to blame but yourself. But with this strange assortment of people around her - rock stars and pop stars and PR managers - she thought maybe she could give up a little control and let someone else do most of the heavy lifting. Maybe, just maybe, she could have someone to share the burden with, as well as the victory.

It would be a change.

So in consultation with David, Emma reached out to the local police and brought them what she had. All the letters from the stalker, her own experiences, the reports from the cops after the bombing. Neal even met with a plainclothes cop who came over to Killian's place to interview him.

They couldn't be too careful. This was the most powerful woman in the music industry and she had connections they couldn't even imagine. She had resorted to murder before, who's to say it wouldn't happen again?

"And you're sure Robby's not involved?" Emma asked for the millionth time, tapping her fingers on the dashboard. Killian shook his head and the quick glare he gave her before focusing again on the road showed her that he was starting to lose patience with her questions.

"I told you, Robby would never do anything like this. Bloody hell, Regina mightn't even be involved, for all I know. Those two have so many issues that she may be as in the dark as we were a week ago."

"But now that Robby's back with Regina-" Killian cut her off with a growl and she sighed. "Well what do you have to say about Phil and Rory? She's involved with this somehow; I saw her having lunch with the redhead."

Killian exhaled heavily as the car came to a stop at home, bracing his arms against the steering wheel. "I will concede that point, Swan. Although I still have a hard time believing the innocent Rory would wish anyone harm."

She grabbed her purse and flew out of the car, blood pumping with anger at Cora Mills and whatever invisible puppets she could still control.

Inside the house, Leroy and the cop, a pretty brunette named Astrid, were putting the finishing touches on the wire strapped to Neal's chest.

"Good lord," Killian grunted beside her. "Does he truly need to be shirtless?"

Emma swatted his arm. "Play nice, Killian," she chided. The jealousy was getting entirely too old. Her gaze turned to Leroy and Astrid. "Are we ready for tonight?"

The woman smiled and Emma wondered how someone with Astrid's sweet disposition could ever become a policewoman. "Neal is going to be fine as long as he follows our instructions. We will get what we need to in order to arrest Cora Mills and this will all be over."

The admiration shining in Leroy's eyes made Emma think that maybe she was not the only one who had noticed Astrid and she tucked that information away for a good round of teasing when she got a chance.

"Its a brilliant plan, Astrid," he said without any of his usual gruffness. "It will go off without a hitch."

And... it kind of did.

Well, there were a few minutes where they were afraid Cora's men would discover the wire. And Neal had a hell of a time trying to get Cora to say exactly what they needed. But when she unequivocally spoke of her plans to get back at Killian Jones and all of _Jolly Roger_ (Neal, the brilliant lowlife, had tapped into her pride, which always gets a super villain to monologue), the police rushed in and arrested Cora Mills for attempted murder.

It was over. It was all over. Emma could finally breathe again and when she looked over at Killian, seeing the relief in his eyes, she fell into his arms and, for the first time since the bombing, she stopped worrying if every moment with him would be there last.

The bad guy had been taken down and they were free to live happily ever after.

* * *

 

That night, Killian's home was filled with their nearest and dearest. All of _Jolly Roger_ and their girlfriends were there, moving and dancing and laughing and drinking, the crowd filling the living room and the kitchen. Everyone was drunk on victory and love. But mostly, liquor. Rory was the only one absent and when Emma talked to Lana, the other woman let it slip that Rory had confessed to feeding information to the redhead after the lives of her parents were threatened by Cora Mills.

Cora Mills had Rory's happiness in her hands and she exploited the poor girl for her devious ends. Emma was sorry for Rory, even if she wasn't sure she could forgive the traitor.

Regina Mills showed up around midnight, giving Ellie and Tia aloof glances before planting a huge kiss on Robby. The pianist pulled away with a dazed expression, a half smile on his face, and Regina turned to look at Emma.

"I didn't have anything to do with it, okay?" she said, gaze fierce and defensive. "I didn't want Mother to screw them over all those years ago, especially not Robby." Her long, red nails clutched his arm and she leaned against his shoulder, looking almost sweet. "I don't know how I can prove it, but the last thing I wanted was for anyone to get hurt." Her eyes flickered over to Graham, sitting in the corner and laughing over beers with Rita and Bella.

Emma took a moment to study Regina before smiling. "I believe you, Regina."

The superstar's eyes widened in a moment of shock and she looked more human than Emma had ever seen her look before, as though she wasn't used to people believing her. Briefly, she wondered how many real friends the megastar had and vowed to take her out to lunch some time soon. Emma's smile widened. "Enjoy the party."

Then she went to find Killian.

When she sat on his lap and whispered in his ear, it took approximately a half a second for him to scoop her up and carry her to their bedroom.

"But we have a whole house of guests," she weakly protested, squirming in his arms as he climbed the stairs.

Killian's grin grew wicked. "Ah, but love, I trust that you are capable of being very, very quiet." He threw open the door and in an instant it was closed and he was pressing her into the bed with a firm thrust of his hips. "And though I am a man who enjoys taking my time," he whispered against her neck, pressing kisses to the sensitive flesh, "I believe I can make an exception."

She groaned, rocking upwards and shuddering when she felt the firm ridge of his erection pressing against his jeans. Her fingers made quick work of the pearly black buttons of his shirt and she slid it off his shoulders with a sigh, hands running across the planes of his taunt back muscles. His own hands worked their way past the hem of her dress, pulling her legs apart and pushing her panties to the side in order to press the heel of his palm against her clit and dip a single digit into her center.

One finger became two and soon she was bucking into his hand like crazy, her teeth clamping down on the soft flesh between shoulder and neck to muffle the sounds of her screams. She knew that the music and the chatter was loud and they were a floor away, but she didn't want to give him the satisfaction of making her scream for an audience again.

She shattered embarrassingly quickly beneath him, thighs slick with desire and face flushed from trying to stay quiet.

"That's enough, showoff," she muttered, wrapping her legs around his waist and flipping him on his back. But his look was still smug beneath her, chest bare and eyes hooded with desire. "Now its my turn."

Killian pulled her dress higher and wriggled to help her in the task of tugging his pants down far enough to free his cock. She wrapped a hand around the rigid member and his own head fell back with a moan. Emma grinned, glad to have him under her mercy, but the pitch of his breathing changed and his hips began thrusting into her firm fingers and she knew that enough was enough.

When she slid him inside of her and his eyes opened, immediately meeting hers with a look of love and desire and complete abandon, she  _knew_ that this was where she wanted to be forever - with Killian. A life of teasing and loving, a life of protection and caring, a life of vulnerability and growing. This was where she was meant to be. This was her place in the world, and wherever life took her, it would be taking her with Killian by her side.

Fifteen minutes after disappearing from the victory party, Emma Swan, unemployed bodyguard, and Killian Jones, rock star, emerged from their bedroom at his home outside of LA. Her lipstick had been freshly reapplied. His hair was even more tousled than usual.

And her panties had mysteriously disappeared.


	31. Birthday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story was supposed to be over, but its Kristen's birthday today and when I asked what she wanted she requested something in this universe. So here's a gift for wtvoc here on AO3, a fast-forward on our lovely couple.

Being in a relationship with a musician is a strange, strange business.

Emma Swan was always an even-tempered person. It would take a great deal to upset her, to break through the carefully-constructed layers that guarded her heart from harm. But some days it seemed as if Killian lived without a single piece of armor, his mind flitting from one place to another and his emotions going with it.

In the creation of his next record, Emma ended up bearing the brunt of the chaos of artistry.

Some days he would fly from his studio in a rage, shedding his clothes on his way out the door like the fabric had personally insulted him, and swim furious laps in the pool for over an hour. When he emerged, dripping and silent, he wouldn't speak to her until he awoke the next morning in a magically better mood.

And then there were the times they were getting ready for a performance, the backstage packed with sweaty, anxious bodies, and he would drag Emma into a rogue supply closet or unused dressing room and fuck her furiously against a wall. In the dark his fingers would make familiar paths over her pebbled nipples and across her aching clit until, with a moan deep in her throat and a flash of his white teeth, she shattered around his cock. His lips, still tasting of her essence, brushed against her own and he tucked his still-stiff dick back into his leather pants and ran off to perform for a crowd.

Emma's personal favorite was the month when he went down on her every single night. She'd sit on the couch, sprawl across the bed, rock her hips into his face as he grinned up at her from on his knees, or dig his fingers into her ass as she writhed on top of him. No matter what the position he would take over an hour each day to lick, tease, and loosen her every muscle until she fell apart. It wasn't until that record came out that she realized that the phrases she kept hearing him murmur into her soaked pussy all ended up the lyrics of a single song.

She was never a girl to be prudish, but damn did that make her blush.

And there were things specific to being a musician's partner. The midnights she woke up to find him sitting on the end of the bed, naked, strumming his guitar. Or the early mornings she wandered into the studio to catch him playing his piano, dark hair up at all angles and deep purple circles under his eyes. The pile of guitar picks permanently on his dresser, which confused her for months until she caught the housekeeper putting his clean clothes away and realized that the picks had all been left his pockets and found in the lint trap of the dryer.

These things all amused and mystified her.

Combine that with the _famous_ musician bit and Emma was living in a completely different world.

"Come on love, _please_?" His nose nudged into the hollow made by her collarbone, the place that made her go weak in the knees, but she gritted her teeth and shoved him away, glaring with all the firmness she was capable of.

"Hell no. Never."

"Never is quite the bold proclamation to make, Swan." Undeterred, he brought her into his arms again. "Think of it. It could earn me another million record sales."

"I am not marrying you to boost your sales, Killian."

The corners of his mouth turned down comically and his nose nudged her nose this time, so close she could see the flecks of silver in his eyes and remember all the times his gaze had convinced her where there was no hope. "But Mary Margaret agrees with me."

"I really do, Emma." Emma broke eye contact to glare at the petite brunette, patting her swollen belly and smiling as if she hasn't betrayed female solidarity. "Positive news stories like this are always good for publicity." She leaned against her husband as their legs worked in tandem to continue their momentum on the swing hanging from Killian's porch. "Don't you agree, David?"

The manager took one look at his pregnant wife, another at his client, a third at his friend he enjoyed going to the shooting range with, and shut his lips tightly. "No comment."

Throughout dinner Killian and Mary Margaret kept on their mission of getting Emma to change her mind and it was only when the blonde hissed a few pointed words about sexual positions and castration that her boyfriend finally closed his mouth in a stunning impersonation of David.

And that night, as he slowly thrust into her, arms braced on either side of her body and barricading her from the outside world, Emma whispered words of _forever_ and _I love you_ that reminded Killian she wasn't going anywhere, even without a huge ring on her finger and a splashy tabloid cover.

A few months later, when Killian held tiny little Leo Nolan in his arms and cooed over the little prince of a baby, the four cooked up a fun scheme to annoy the paparazzi who had been publishing ridiculous rumors about an upcoming wedding between the rock star and his bombshell girlfriend. Three of them were making plans for the next tour, but Emma was able to find time to do most of the work to throw a huge birthday party for Killian that would trick the tabloids into thinking that they were throwing a wedding.

With a great deal of giggling, invites got sent out and Emma pulled some of her best crew from _Swan Security, inc_ to guard the event. The setting sun and the soft light of tiki torches lit a casual but classy event on the beach. Guests admired the beautiful tables set with red roses and red lace tablecloths, the fluttering linen tent, and the way the cool evening sand felt beneath their bare feet.

"I have never had a birthday so lovely, darling," Killian whispered into her ear as they revolved in circles while Graham played a romantic tune. "Everything is so beautiful." His thumb ran across her cheek and he shared with her that heart-warming, secret smile that let her know he was truly content. "I could not wish for anything more."

"Nothing?" Her nose nudged his playfully and her heart started to pound, making her palms go damp. "Not even if we got married tonight?"

He took a very, very long time to respond, mouth hanging open and feet planting on the ground so they stopped dancing. There was a fleeting moment where Emma wondered if she had misread him, if his pleas over the last year had all been jokes and she was too stupid to get it. But then that smile returned and he surged forward, lips warm and strong and steady against hers.

"Let's do it, love."

Signaled by the groom's enthusiasm, Graham abruptly changed to _Here Comes the Bride_ and the scattered guests gathered in anticipation. The excitement present all night sparked to a new frenzy and Emma laughed a bit when Killian looked around and groaned, realizing he had been duped.

"This was your plan from the beginning."

"It was." Her hand found his and she tugged him towards the shore, where a pastor was waiting for them and the crowd that followed.

"Why?"

"I had to do it on my terms." She leaned her head against his shoulder, drawing her usual strength from his touch. "Do you get that?"

"I do. Do we-" he stopped her suddenly, several feet from the officiant "-do we have to get a license from the courthouse, Swan?"

"We'll worry about the legal part later, Jones." She gave him a quick kiss, her hands on his hips promising much more later, and smiled. "Why don't we make ourselves honest before God first? I think you and I have a _lot_ of sins to atone for."

"You forget, dear," he whispered in her ear before the pastor started the ceremony, "that I was raised by a Catholic mum. I know about atoning for sins."

And later, as he worshiped at the alter of her body, pressing kisses and prayers into her neck, her breast, her stomach, her womanhood, her feet, his whispers were like hymns promising devotion and salvation and reconciliation. It was two becoming one in the most ancient of ways, and Emma finally felt the ecstasy of the chaos and the calm of an artist wash over her.

It was exhausting, but it was love. And it was home.


End file.
